


hold my breath and i'll count to ten

by smc_27



Series: before i knew which life was mine [2]
Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, a series of unconnected but sorta connected oneshots, teenagers on a trip with no supervision, the other worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smc_27/pseuds/smc_27
Summary: Look, he wasn’t expecting to like, enjoy her company as much as he does. But when they got to the waterfall they were hiking to and she had this...this really kind of gorgeous look on her face that… He’s just noticing things about her. He likes her. All the things he thought about her before this trip are true, but like, more. It feels like a really bad idea to let himself think this way about her.
Relationships: Harry Bingham/Allie Pressman
Series: before i knew which life was mine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872871
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67





	hold my breath and i'll count to ten

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second other world! What if they actually went on the trip to the mountains? Enjoy and please let me know what you think. 💛 Part three coming soon!

She’s never been able to sleep in cars. She was always the one awake on long family trips, either keeping everyone else awake, or sitting in the front seat for the late night driving to keep whoever was at the wheel company. Cassandra can sleep anywhere. She says it’s because of all her time spent trying to sleep in hospitals in rooms with other people and nurses coming and going and the lights on in the hallways. Maybe Allie’s inability to sleep in moving vehicles is partly due to the fact that a thing she’s always done when she’s been near Cassandra when Cassandra has been sleeping, is to make sure she’s still breathing. That her breaths are still coming out one after the other. She’s never been able to stop that from being a thing she’s done. And all those long trips, Cassandra was on, too.

She brings her earbuds and wears a hat she can pull down over her eyes. She’s going to sit with Will - they’ve been talking about it for weeks and confirmed it yesterday at lunch when Becca was complaining about the seating arrangements for the buses. They’re doing it alphabetically, so Becca and Sam are on one bus, and Cassandra, Allie and Will are on another. She’s also complaining that they’re taking school buses instead of coaches for a 12 hour trip, but Allie’s trying not to care about that. She’s mostly excited that they’re going.

Sometimes she feels like if she doesn’t get out of West Ham at least for one night every few months, she’s going to fucking lose it.

Will’s locking his bike on the bike rack as she says goodbye to her parents. He waves to her as he tosses his bag beneath the bus and then boards. Her mom’s saying something about being responsible, and taking lots of photos, and, “HavefunIloveyou,” like it’s all one word, the way she always says it. Allie smiles, turns and heads for the bus as Cassandra says goodbye, too. She watches Harry pull up in his silver car, grab his bag from the trunk. There’s no one here to see him off and Allie isn’t surprised at the way he avoids everyone on the green and goes to the bus. It’s not lost on her that the guy with all the privilege and the guy with none of it have had similar arrivals.

She puts her bag under the bus and then spins around, knocking into someone because she wasn’t paying attention.

It’s Harry, grinning down at her, his hand on her shoulder like he’s steadying her.

“Sorry,” she says, and it’s not like they never talk, so she’s not surprised when he shakes his head like it’s no big deal.

“What’s with this?” he asks, tapping the brim of her hat with his fingers, pushing it down a little. She makes a face she hopes is cute (god, why does she hope it’s cute?) and pushes his arm away, though he was already moving it.

“It’s cute,” she says, and Harry looks like he wants to comment.

What he does instead is say, “Yeah,” all quiet, and then smile at her before walking away.

When she gets onto the bus and sits down next to Will, she’s smiling too wide - she can feel it - but then the first thing he says is, “Was Harry bugging you?” and she deflates a little.

She just says, “No,” and settles into her seat and Will looks out the window like he wishes he was anywhere else.

Allie has a bad feeling in her stomach, but really wants to keep being excited instead of whatever this is, so she turns to Cassandra, sitting across from her, and asks if their mom said the same things to her that she did to Allie.

… … …

Kelly’s leaning on the window instead of on him.

Getting into a fight as soon as they got on the bus was not at all a thing he was expecting, though he probably fucking should’ve because all they seem to do anymore is fight. And fool around. And that used to be kind of fine with him, but now he’s just exhausted. He’s so tired of it. It’s hard to enjoy the fooling around when he feels like shit around her most of the rest of the time. And like, he knows he can be a bit of an asshole. Just sometimes, though. Not all the time. He’s not an asshole all the time. The other day when she used the word to describe him, she didn’t make it sound like she thinks there’s ever a time when he’s not an asshole. So. He doesn’t know what they’re doing together.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t break up with her then. (She’d said, “This just, like, isn’t working,” and he didn’t say _anything_ but they didn’t end it and he’s got an almost sick desire to wonder if they ever will.)

He’s sitting here next to her now and he knows he should do it, he should be the one who calls it off. But he’s honestly fucking terrified of not being with Kelly. He’s been with her so long and everyone, since their literal first date, has been telling them how much sense they make together, how they’re perfect, how they’re beautiful. And he knows that’s not a good enough reason to stay together, but he just...he wonders what he is - _who_ he is - if he’s not with her. And he thinks it’s really fucked up that he’s literally 18 and thinking this way. Like, how did he get here?

He’s just sitting here fucking around on his phone because it’s too dark to read. Not everyone is asleep. He can hear Becca Gelb laughing in the seat ahead of him, but she’s with Sam, and Harry knows they’re signing even though he can hear Becca whispering as she talks back. About 20 minutes later, she pops up over the back of the seat, folds her arms on it and stares right at him.

Look, the thing with Becca is she’s cute. They’re not close at all and have never been, but she’s like, this adorable girl who’s all bubbly and funny and smells like just a little too much vanilla perfume.

“Settle an argument, Harry.”

He smiles, nods like he wants to know what’s going on. He does. He likes being included in things. “What’s up?”

She reaches back and does something, and then Sam’s looking over the seat at him, too. Sam glances at Kelly, but probably just doesn’t know she sleeps like she’s in a coma.

“Who do you think’s gonna be the most surprising hookup on this trip?” she asks, and Harry breathes a laugh through his nose, shakes his head.

“I dunno. Like, everyone,” he says, and Sam laughs softly.

Becca rolls her eyes. “Sam says Allie and Will.”

Harry knows he furrows his brow like he doesn’t like it. It’s just...Will’s the worst. Like, Kelly likes to talk about what a jerk Harry is, but at least he doesn’t hide it. He thinks guys like Will are worse than he is because they _act_ like they’re not jerks, then dick people around. There’s something gross about that and Harry hasn’t been able to successfully articulate it to Kelly, because she’s too busy telling him if he _knows_ he’s an asshole, he should also be self aware enough to be able to stop himself.

Okay, all that, plus Allie’s like, hot, and cute, and nice, and fucking funny, and Harry just thinks she could do better.

And he knows it’s stupid, and probably proves Kelly’s point, but he talks to Allie sometimes and he knows it veers off into flirting really easily, but that’s because Allie flirts back, no matter what, and he’s never said anything inappropriate to her, or whatever. It’s just that interacting with Allie is fun. Genuinely fun. Like earlier, before he got on the bus and everything went to shit.

Sam’s signing and talking at the same time, for Harry’s benefit, when he defends his point. “Surprising because if it hasn’t happened yet, it’s probably not going to.”

Becca sighs like she thinks this is true, but that it bothers her, too. “I wish he’d just tell her, instead of acting like he doesn’t know.”

Harry realizes, or is reminded, that he’s really not part of this friend group at all. Like, yeah, he’s seen that Allie and Will are together like, all the time, and he’s definitely seen Allie looking at Will sometimes like he hung the fucking moon. He just...ignores it. Like he ignores most things to do with Will. Because why would he bother paying attention?

But instead of saying something reasonable and not fucking crazy, he says, “I don’t think anyone hooking up with Allie is that surprising,” and he knows it doesn’t sound like he thinks she hooks up with a bunch of people.

No, he makes it sound like Allie’s some kind of catch. He doesn’t know if she is one way other the other. He just knows what he knows, which, again: hot, cute, nice, funny. Those are the key criteria for guys his age, he thinks.

Becca gets this little look in her eye, and then Sam’s looking at Harry like he thinks they’ve missed something entirely.

Harry needs to recover.

He grins. “Have you two ever hooked up?” he asks, mostly teasing, and Becca lets out a loud laugh, then covers her mouth and glances at Kelly, who hasn’t even stirred. “No?”

Sam signs and says, “Wrong gender,” and then points to Becca, and Harry knows his brow goes up as he smiles. He had no idea, but there’s something kind of awesome that he’s being let in on it. That Sam maybe trusts him. Or maybe is just not bothered by people knowing.

They throw out a few other suggestions, all of which sound completely ridiculous to him. Like, he knows that a couple of the people they mention have actually already hooked up, but he doesn’t say anything because it’s not his thing to spread peoples’ news around. He hates it when there’re rumours about him.

After a while, Becca and Sam turn back around and sit down, and Harry takes a deep breath and lets it out. He considers reaching for Kelly’s hand, but doesn’t. He closes his eyes but doesn’t sleep. He’s thinking about Kelly. About him and Kelly. He wonders if while everyone else is wondering who’s gonna hook up, he’s about to throw them all off and surprise them with a breakup. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to. But he doesn’t want _this_ , either.

… … …

She’s rooming with Becca and Cassandra is rooming with Kelly. Because the rule was to keep all age or class groups together. Allie isn’t bothered, though Cassandra had said she wished they could share a room. Allie sees Cassandra every day, and knows she will on this trip, too. She’s kind of excited to be separate, to not be securely settled into Cassandra’s shadow the whole time.

The first thing they do when they drop their bags is head for a walk. It’s Becca’s idea, and Sam joins them. Will isn’t around, but Allie texts him and he says something about decompressing a little. He says he didn’t sleep well on the bus. Allie doesn’t say anything about the fact that he slept for almost the entire time and she barely got an hour, if that. It doesn’t matter. They ate breakfast hours ago at some random fast food stop, and now she’s going to wander in the woods with her friends. She’s got a backpack with water and some snacks, and a hoodie zipped up to her chest.

As they’re walking past the little playground outside the lodge, they see Harry and Kelly there. She’s got her arms crossed, her head down, and he’s standing further from her than Allie’s used to seeing. Kelly digs her toe into the dirt and Harry runs a hand through his hair and says something and then starts walking away. He flinches a little when he sees they’re looking his way, then keeps walking even though he’s heading straight for them and looks like he seriously doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

Allie glances past him to Kelly, who just looks his way - their way - and then turns to go back inside.

Before he can walk past, Allie reaches out for his wrist. He looks down at her like he’s surprised she’s daring to touch him, but for some reason she doesn’t move her hand.

“Are you okay?” she asks genuinely, and his features soften, and he just nods, then lets out his breath, looks at her from under his lashes. She doesn’t believe him. “We’re going for a walk.” He’s just looking at her. She wishes he’d say something. “Wanna come with us?”

“I…” He glances past her, so she looks over her shoulder at Becca and Sam, who are just sort of smiling. “Yeah,” he says softly, then takes another deep breath. “Okay.”

Harry stuffs his hands into his pockets, and she gives him a little smile, something sad, and Becca and Sam lead the way down this path that leads to the forest. Harry doesn’t say anything for way too long. Allie can just hear the stones and twigs under their feet, and when she’s looking downward, she notices Harry’s shoes. Boots, really. They’re these brown leather things with laces. They’re like, somewhere between a hiking boot and something else. It’s weird to see him in something other than sneakers or those flimsy summer shoes he wears sometimes. But they look good on him, because of course they do. And the way his jeans are cuffed is like...how much time does he spend on shit like that? Maybe it’s worth it. Maybe…

“I broke up with Kelly,” he says quietly, and when Allie looks at him he’s looking downward, too. She wonders if he notices she was doing it and copied her. God, she’s thinking too hard about this.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t like that response or doesn’t want it.

“Doesn’t make sense anymore.” She didn’t ask, so she’s surprised he’s telling her anything more. But also maybe he just needs to talk. She has no idea why he’d talk to her. Becca glances at them over her shoulder, something on her face Allie doesn’t have time to decode right now. “I’m just like, over it.”

Allie doesn’t mean to laugh, but like… “Just like that?”

He flashes her a grin. It almost scares her that he can throw it on so easily. But then, she knows a little something about pretending like this, too. She really isn’t in a position to judge.

“It’s been a long time coming. She thinks I’m a piece of shit, so.”

“There’s no way she thinks that,” Allie argues, and he lets out his breath like he doesn’t believe her. They’re making their way through the trees now, the sun peeking through. It gets in her eye when she looks back up at him. “Well, look. This could be your chance to reinvent yourself. Really lean into the mountain man thing.”

He laughs louder than she was expecting, then glances at her again. “Yeah? Go full beard and flannel?”

Allie turns, walks ahead of him, but backwards, and says, “Could work on you.”

His eyes narrow a little like he’s surprised she’s said that, and she just laughs and turns, catches up to Becca and Sam and throws her arms around both of them. Harry’s there, then, too, the four of them walking in a row on this stupid path. He says something about liking shit like this, which is kind of a shock to all of them. He just rolls his eyes, wearing this little smile, and tells them a little about spending time in Montana hunting with his dad when he was younger. Becca looks at him like he’s insane or that’s a wild thought. He just shrugs and says he learned to ride a horse when he was a kid and his dad kind of took him all over because he liked to hunt or whatever. Allie never would’ve thought. Becca says it’s hot, and Harry grins like he knows, or something. Allie just says she hates guns and he says he does, too, and that all the hunting was done with a bow. Whatever. Why does she even care? Why does it feel weird and a little good to learn these random facts about people?

They walk for a long time, and Allie shares her water bottle with Harry because he doesn’t have one of his own. By the time they reach this clearing, this lookout point, she’s sort of tired but also having a lot of fun. She’s thankful that her friends are being nice to Harry, but also isn’t surprised. And she isn’t really sure why she cares, other than he looked really fucking sad back there and didn’t want him to stay that way.

“Whoa,” she says when they stand at the edge and look out and the mountains are there, huge and beautiful ahead of them, with a valley below.

“Shit,” he chuckles. He elbows Allie gently and she looks over at him. “Glad you invited me.”

She smiles, then Becca’s insisting they take a photo. They all crowd together, Sam and Harry in the back, her and Becca in front. Harry’s hand is on her waist over her hoodie and Allie smiles for the camera and Becca takes like five in a row.

Later, she sends Allie the best ones, including one of her sitting between Harry and Sam on a rock at the lookout, eating trail mix from a plastic bag and smiling with the sun reflecting off her hair. She’s smiling at Harry. He’s smiling back.

… … …

He’s rooming with Grizz, because when they learned about this stupid trip, Harry asked Grizz first before anyone else could. Because Grizz is literally the only guy their age Harry can imagine spending this many days this close to. And Grizz had just smiled a little and said, “Yeah. Sure, man,” and that was sort of that. They haven’t really talked about it since.

When he gets back from the walk, it’s almost lunch, and he thinks his timing’s all thrown off by the schedule someone decided was a good one for this trip. It literally makes no sense to him that they’d have driven overnight, but it’s not his call. He sort of just wants to eat something easy and have a nap. He thinks he smells like the forest, or something, and smiles as he lets himself into his room, thinking about Allie’s earlier comment - or soliloquy, really - about the forest smell just being decay, or whatever, and that being kind of weird and beautiful. Honestly, he doesn’t know if that’s true at all, or if it even makes any sense. He just knows it was nice to be with the three of them and distract himself from the shit going on in his life. Like breaking up with his girlfriend of two years and her not even crying. And then feeling fucking weird for wanting her to cry.

Grizz is sitting out on the little balcony, on this rustic chair that looks fucking uncomfortable. He’s not doing anything but looking out over the property. His phone’s sitting on his thigh. Harry joins him outside and sits down in the other chair.

“It’s fucking beautiful here, man,” Grizz says, and Harry breathes out a laugh.

“Yeah. I was just in the woods. There’s this lookout.” Grizz glances over at him like he’s surprised, or something. Harry doesn't know what that’s about. Does everyone just think he’s some like, city kid who’s unable to be near a tree? Shit. “Went for a walk.”

“Yeah?” Grizz asks, and then he’s looking at Harry, and Harry just _knows_ everyone already knows about him and Kelly. Jesus, they barely made it three hours. “You wanna talk about it?”

Harry, leaning his head back against the chair and closing his eyes, grins and asks, “The walk?”

Grizz chuckles a little, and Harry turns, opens one eye. “That. Kelly. Whatever.”

Harry doesn’t know if Grizz actually wants to hear anything about any of this shit, so he just sighs and says, “No. I’m good.”

“Okay, well.” Grizz is shaking his head like he thinks Harry’s making a bad decision, or something, by keeping everything bottled up. “If you change your mind…”

He doesn’t know what to say other than, “Thanks.”

They sit there for another 10 minutes, or so, and then Grizz is suggesting they go get some food. They walk together to the dining room, and as they’re passing one room, the door is wide open and Cassandra and Kelly are in there. Harry feels his blood run cold and doesn’t really understand why. He wonders if he’ll just feel this way when he sees Kelly for a while. No, actually, he wonders if he’ll feel this shitty about the way people are going to talk about him and look at him - and her. He wonders if he’s really just fucking terrified to have to do all this shit alone.

Lunch is just soup and sandwiches, which is sort of fine by him. He’s not gonna be an asshole about the cuisine and figures it could be way worse. He and Grizz sit down with Helena, Luke, Erika and Jason, and Luke asks him how his day’s been. Helena won’t look him in the eye. Harry thinks that’s kind of bullshit. It’s not like they’re close, and she’s definitely more Kelly’s friend than she is his, but he also like, hasn’t done anything wrong. Breaking up with Kelly doesn’t make him any more of an asshole than staying with her and not wanting to did.

He sees Sam, who smiles at him and Harry smiles back, and yeah, he watches where Sam’s going even though he already knows. There’s no doubt, really, that he, Becca and Allie are like, a little group. Except when Sam sits down Will’s there, too, so it’s the four of them. Allie’s picking tomato off her sandwich and smiling, shaking her head at something Will’s saying, but also looking at him like…

Harry looks away, back to his food. Grizz says something to the group about the walk, asks Harry which path the lookout is on. He tells them and they plan to go tomorrow. No one invites him until Grizz mentions that Harry’s welcome. He figures it’s just because they know he already went. (No, he actually thinks that’s not it at all. He just...wants to pretend for a minute.)

God, they’re not even halfway through the first fucking day and he already wishes he could go home and be alone.

He decides on a nap instead, leaves half his food on his tray and clears it as he gets up. He just mumbles something to Grizz about it, hoping maybe the guy’ll be quiet if he comes back into the room after he’s done here. Whatever. Harry can ignore a lot anyway. He’s used to acting like he’s sleeping when he doesn’t want to deal with people or things.

The door to Cassandra and Kelly’s room is closed when he walks by. He doesn’t know why he looks.

He stares at the ceiling for a bit before his eyes finally close. He dreams he’s driving too fast down an empty highway and then suddenly someone’s knocking on the window and he’s stopped dead in the middle of the road. When he looks over, it’s a person whose face looks like it’s been mauled by…

He gasps as he wakes up. His hand scrubs over his face when he realizes it was just a brutal dream. He tries to get his heart rate to slow down, looks over at the window and sees it’s getting dark out. Shit, how long has he been sleeping?

Someone’s knocking at the door. That sets him on edge, too. How long’ve they been there? Does that explain the dream?

He opens the door and squints against the harsh lighting of the hallway. Allie’s standing there in a different hoodie from earlier, her hair a little messier, and this little smile on her face that leaves way too quickly. He thinks she can tell he’s...not exactly okay. Then he notices that Sam, Becca and Will are all leaning against the wall in the hallway.

“Hey,” he says, and knows he sounds like he was just sleeping.

“We’re going to the bonfire. Grizz said you were sleeping and he tried to wake you an hour ago.”

Oh. Shit.

“Okay.” Allie’s brows come together quickly, then she seems to recover from her confusion, or whatever.

“Come with us.” Harry looks past her. Becca’s smiling a little, but also looks back to her phone pretty fast. Sam’s looking a little more inviting. Will’s avoiding him completely, looking to his own feet. “It’ll be fun.”

Harry can’t imagine going anywhere and doing anything with Will would be fun, if he’s being honest. The guy seems to suck the life out of every room he’s in. Harry also just...He doesn’t understand what’s happening here. Like, sure, they invited him earlier because he was right there and they probably felt like they couldn’t _not_. But are they seeking him out now? Is this some big conspiracy, or something? If they’re talking to Grizz about him, what else are they saying?

“Come in for a minute,” he says, and Will looks up immediately, which pisses Harry off. Like, honestly fuck that guy. Does he think Harry’s like, dangerous, or something? Allie just steps inside and lets the door close gently behind her, and then glances at the bed, the covers all messy from how he was lying on top of them. “Why are you doing this?”

She looks bothered by the question. “Excuse me?”

“Like, finding me. Inviting me to shit.”

She tilts her head, gives him a little smile he thinks is sort of patronizing. “I think it’d be fucked up if you spent the whole trip alone and on a messed up sleep schedule,” she says, sounding pissed. Harry doesn’t hate it, which is weird. “And you don’t have to separate yourself from everyone just because you and Kelly broke up. She doesn’t get everyone, leaving you by yourself. That’s not how it works.”

He scoffs, looks at her like she’s being stupid. Which isn’t really fair, but like. He’s never seen her with anyone. He doesn’t think she’s ever had a boyfriend. How does she know how any of this works?

“Yeah? You have a lot of experience with breakups?”

She squints at him like he’s being a dick. Which he sort of is. But he’s also just fine being left on his own. It’s fine.

Allie’s face goes from pissed to smug _really_ fast, and she sits down on his bed, leans back on her hands. Her hoodie slips down her shoulder just the slightest bit, revealing a black bra strap. This is confusing because he’s annoyed at her, but he still thinks she looks hot.

“If you won’t come with us, I’ll just stay here,” she says, then looks away from him, and damn, that little look on her face is sort of getting to him. In a good way that’s probably actually bad. “Pass the remote?”

Harry stands there a minute just looking at her, but she’s dead fucking serious, even though she swings her legs like a child and eventually raises her brow at him.

When he asks, “What’s wrong with you?” he knows he’s smiling and he laughs a little, and Allie just stands up again, grinning, and doesn’t answer. She does grab him by the wrist and lead him to the door. She drops it before the door’s open. He knows why but it doesn’t matter. Everyone but Will says hi, which bothers him just enough to say, “Hey,” all pointed.

Will says, “Hey,” back, and then they’re all walking down the hall together and Harry doesn’t know what to expect from this stupid bonfire.

He doesn’t know what it’ll mean to anyone that he’s showing up with this group of people. He’s not worried about his reputation, or whatever, because he’s the kind of guy who can sort of talk to whoever he wants and no one gives a shit. But he does know it means something to be seen with Allie. He’s been thinking about that since this morning, actually. Like, if Cassandra...No. Fuck Cassandra. He’s hardly ever seen Allie and Cassandra apart in the last like, four years, and it registers to him that he hasn’t seen them _together_ this whole trip. Which has been like a day, sure, but still. It’s weird for them.

“Hey,” he says, touches Allie’s shoulder as they step outside. Becca’s got both Will and Sam by the hands and she’s walking towards the plume of smoke off in the distance. Allie turns her head to look at him and he drops his hand. “Are you okay?”

She looks at him like he’s crazy. Like he’s the one in need of saving here and it’s messed up that he’s checking on her.

“Yeah?”

“I just...You and Cassandra are usually joined at the hip.” She laughs softly, a little pissed, he thinks, and then looks downward. She tucks her hair behind her ear, then pulls it out again, lets it fall around her face. “You good?”

She nods, then looks back up at him, and he can’t tell if the smile she’s wearing is fake or not, which bothers him even though he has no reason to care. He doesn’t know Allie well enough to like, know her expressions, really.

“I’m good.” It _sounds_ convincing. She softens a little, tilts her chin up so she’s looking at him. He didn’t realize they were standing so close. He doesn’t hate it. He shouldn’t notice that, but he does. He also shouldn’t notice the way the stupid overhead light makes her eyes look all dark blue. But here he is, noticing. “I can exist independently of Cassandra.”

Harry gives her a lopsided grin, blinks slowly. “Thank god for that.”

She laughs, then turns and starts walking, so he joins her in that, too, wondering if following her will continue to be a theme on this stupid trip.

“Why?” she asks, teasing, and then, “You like being around me and if she was here, you wouldn’t be?”

And like...nail on the head, right?

“Basically,” he says, nudges her with his elbow so she’ll think he’s joking. She laughs out loud, this obnoxious sound he thinks is cuter than it should be. The crowd noise from the party gets louder as they approach everyone. He can see Kelly talking to Will and Sam. Harry’s stomach drops, but he doesn’t know why. “Get you a beer?”

Her nose scrunches. “I hate beer. Something else, though.”

Harry nods, wonders who she’ll flock to if her friends are with Kelly. If she’ll go there anyway and not care that Harry won’t want to be around his ex-girlfriend of like, not even 12 hours. But she knows he’s coming back, and he doesn’t think she’d put him in that position, would she? God, he sort of...It’s not that he wishes he knew her better. No, fuck that. He does wish he knew her better. Because then he might understand why the hell she’s doing all this. And he knows it’s all her doing, and maybe, possibly, a little Becca’s. There’s no way Will gives a single fuck about him. Sam seems like the type to just go with the flow. Harry can’t say he loves the idea that they’ve probably _talked_ about it - about him - too. Like he’s some kind of fucking charity case, or something. Like he needs to be saved from being alone. Jesus, he’s alone all the time anyway, or was, when Kelly wasn’t around. It’s not like he doesn’t know how to do it. It’s not like he isn’t fine with being his own company.

He mixes two tequila and cranberry, one for him and one for Allie, and then Luke’s right next to him pouring a beer into a red cup. Harry wonders why he doesn’t just drink from the bottle. He also wonders, distantly, how the hell this lodge is okay with this mass display of underage drinking. He’s honestly shocked there’re literally no chaperones from West Ham with them. What kind of fucking trip is this?

Anyway, Luke says, “Sorry about you and Kelly, man.”

Harry turns to him, and he sort of wants to shrug it off like it’s nothing, but Luke’s being sincere and Harry appreciates at least that. “Thanks. It...sucks, but. Maybe for the best.”

Luke nods, looks into his cup, and then asks, “Was it hard to do it?”

Harry narrows his eyes. Not the question he was expecting. Luke and Helena are… If Luke’s asking this question, it makes Harry wonder if maybe they’re not as good as they let on.

“Yeah. It was fucking awful,” Harry says honestly. Okay, maybe it isn’t that honest. Because it sucked, because he’s scared of what it means to not be with her, for them not to be a package deal. But not because he felt uncertain about it or like maybe he was making the wrong choice. “We should’ve called it before this trip. Everything’s awkward as hell now.”

Becca chooses that exact moment to squeeze in between them and puts her back to Luke, but she’s so close she knocks into him, and he puts his hands up like he’s not allowed to touch another girl whatsoever, or something. Which is maybe smart, because jesus, Kelly gave Harry shit for that all the fucking time. (Sometimes he deserved it. Sometimes. Not all the time.)

“Harry. You take too long. Don’t you know we have alcohol to drink and bad choices to make?” He laughs at her, holds up the two cups in his hands, and she gets this cute but sort of also terrifying smile on her face, then turns around, puts her hand on Luke’s chest and shoves a little. Harry laughs again, because it’s hilarious, the way she just doesn’t seem to give a fuck and also did the one thing Luke was afraid of but is totally innocent, too.

Harry just raises a brow quickly at Luke, then follows her, because he figures she’s going to wherever Allie is.

Weird, how quickly he realizes _he_ just sort of wants to be wherever Allie is.

She’s sitting on a log, her sweater pulled down over her hands as she talks to Will. Harry worries he’s going to interrupt something - honestly, he’s still thinking of that conversation he had with Becca and Sam on the bus. Will smiles at Allie and then looks away, and Allie’s eyes stay on him. She’s looking at him like…

“Let’s save her,” Becca says, and it takes Harry a second to realize she’s serious, a little concerned, and he doesn’t know, really, what they’re saving Allie from, or if she’ll think of it as a positive at all. Becca sits herself down right in between them, her ass half on Will’s thigh until he moves, laughing. Harry smiles. He thinks it’s cool that these people act like this with each other. He wonders if this is what it’s like to have actual friends.

“Here,” he says, passing Allie the drink he got her, then sitting down next to her.

“Thanks.” She takes a sip and lets out this little sound. He worries it’s too strong or something, but she just licks her lips and says, “I love tequila so much.”

“You do?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not some square. Just because I don’t hang out at the debaucherous parties you have at your house doesn’t mean I’ve never been drunk.”

Harry grins at her, sets his elbows on his knees. Past her, he can see Will watching them. Harry, for the first time literally ever, wonders if Will has a thing for Allie the way she has one for him. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he cares. Maybe he doesn’t care.

“How come you’ve never shown up at one of my parties?” he asks, and puts on a charming grin, because, honestly, he thinks it’ll piss Will off, and pissing Will off is a thing Harry’s liked to do for at least a year and a half.

Allie tilts her head. There’s a little piece of a leaf in her hair. He reaches out to free it and she watches him do it, then drop it on the ground. Neither of them mentions it.

“I was never exactly invited.” She takes another sip. “Plus there’s a whole list.”

He laughs, because that’s like, sort of ridiculous. “Is there?” She nods. Someone nearby puts on some music, and Harry wonders again how this shit is allowed. “What’s on the list?”

She sighs like she doesn’t really want to do this, but then turns to him a little, her toe bumping his. “My sister, my parents, my friends, _your_ friends, your mom, my…”

“My mom?” he asks, and his face is all screwed up, he can feel it. Allie just looks at him, and he seriously… “What does that mean?”

“It’s a long story,” she tells him, and yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. His mom’s kind of fucking terrible to him, and she’s been terrible to other people, and he’s seriously _embarrassed_ already if she did something to Allie. Like, there’s no way she actually fucking _knows_ this girl. “She yelled at me once. I was like, 12, I think. It was a town meeting and I was outside waiting. I picked one of the flowers and she…” She gives him a smile - and yeah, this is her fake one. He can confirm that now. “It’s not a big deal, she just like, scares me.”

He lets out a breath. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t say _me too_ , because his mom doesn’t scare him now. Fuck, that’d take her interacting with him more than just to tell him she’s not going to be home til late and asking him to make sure his sister doesn’t starve.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay,” he tells her, and then turns his head to look at her again so she’ll know he means it. “Sorry she was a bitch.”

Allie laughs, shoves at his arm. He holds his cup up so he doesn’t spill his drink. “I didn’t say _that_.”

He just laughs out, “I’m saying it,” and she looks like she wants to respond to that, but doesn’t, and then Becca’s asking them what they want to do tomorrow, and Harry feels, weirdly, like he’s kind of been adopted into their group, or something.

Two days ago, he would’ve hated it. Now Allie’s hair is glowing orange in the light of the fire and she’s talking about going on another hike, and when she turns and says, “You’ll come, right?” he nods because she sounds like she wants him there, and he likes that more than he wants to let on.

… … …

She honestly figures she’s going to have to go get him again.

Even though he said yes to coming on this hike, she thinks he’s maybe free falling a little, which feels weird to think because she barely knows him at all. Cassandra caught her last night before she went to bed, after he and Will had walked Allie and Becca back to their room (which, yes, was a little weird). But Cassandra had texted Allie, asking why she was hanging out with Harry. As if Allie needs to explain herself to Cassandra or anyone else. As if there’s something automatically wrong with it if she is hanging out with him. Honestly, she just stubbornly refuses to let him waste his trip in a shitty hotel room by himself.

Which is, more or less, what she told her sister. Who stopped texting immediately, which pisses Allie off more than it should have, but whatever.

Anyway, she’s surprised when she walks into the dining room for breakfast and he’s there, sitting with Sam and drinking coffee, a plate of food in front of him. Becca is with her, and they just head for the breakfast buffet. Allie’s not a huge breakfast person, but she knows she’s going to need fuel for this hike, so she gets eggs, toast and yogurt, and since she’s done loading her plate before Becca, she goes and joins Sam and Harry. She sits across from Sam, next to Harry.

“Morning,” Harry says, and his voice is lower than usual, and it surprises her a little (she realizes it’s _attractive_ ), so she looks over at him and he looks scared by her reaction, or something, and asks, “What?”

She laughs at herself. “Nothing. Morning. Sleep okay?”

“No,” he says, laughing softly. “I slept like shit. My five hour nap or whatever kind of screwed me.” Allie takes a bite of her eggs and then reaches for a little packet of peanut butter from the basket on the table. Harry’s watching her. She ignores it.

“I slept like a baby. Probably because I didn’t sleep at all on the bus.”

“How’d you stay up as late as we did on that little sleep?”

She bites into her toast and then puts it down, signing so Sam doesn’t have to read her lips. “Tequila makes me invincible.”

Harry laughs, and Sam scoffs, and she wants to tell them to fuck off, but she doesn’t. She just grins a little and thinks she hears Harry say, “Noted,” all quietly, but she doesn’t know what that means and does not know if it matters in the slightest.

Cassandra, Kelly, and Bean walk in, and Kelly looks their way. Harry’s looking down at his plate as Becca says something about grabbing some fruit for their hike and wanting to actually change into a different shirt, or something. Cassandra catches Allie’s eye and then looks disappointed. Allie doesn’t react. Until and unless Cassandra actually wants to communicate with words about this, there’s really nothing for Allie to respond to, is there?

“Ice cold,” he says, elbowing her gently, and god, she wishes he hadn’t seen that. “Wonder what Kelly thinks.”

Allie just glances at him. She can’t tell how he’s saying that. If he’s just curious, or if it’s more than that. She doesn’t think for a single second he’s like, using her to make anyone jealous. Which is, annoyingly, something Will said yesterday that she chose to shut down immediately. Because how dare he? She wondered then if he was just jealous that Allie and Harry were…

God. No. She doesn’t want to think about this right now. She doesn’t want to think about Harry and Will in competition for her attention, because that is just...so absurd. Neither of them have shown interest, despite her practically _willing_ Will to actually want her the way she wants him. Despite her thinking sometimes he gets just close enough to it to keep her from stopping.

“Hey,” Harry says, and he’s looking at her curiously. He laughs softly. “Where’d you just go?”

She forces a smile, which makes him sort of squint at her. God, can he tell she’s faking it? “I’m here,” she says, and oh _no_ , he gives her this look that is kind of super hot. “Okay, maybe I’m just in my head about Cassandra being distant.”

He lets out a sound, something like, “Ah,” like he just wants to acknowledge it but doesn’t know what else to say. “I mean…” He pauses, looks at her slyly, which… He should stop that. “You could lean into it.”

He’s being serious, the way he says it, the voice he uses, but also she’s a little floored that he’s taking what she said yesterday and pushing it back to her, like a challenge.

She rubs her lips together. “Yeah? Independent woman, and all that?”

He’s got a really good smile. She knew that. Seeing it up close is really something.

An hour later, they’re hiking and Harry’s up ahead with Becca. Allie doesn’t know what he’s said, but Becca pushes at his arm and says, “Asshole!” as she laughs, and Allie tries not to smile. She hopes it’s not all an act, how easily he’s fitting in. She shouldn’t care and it shouldn’t matter, but it does. She can’t help thinking she’ll be disappointed if this is all pretend and he goes back to acting the way he did before this trip. Which is just being an acquaintance; not being rude to anyone, but not being _friends_ , either. And like, yeah, she thinks he’s kind of just a flirt, and he’s done _that_ with her before, but she doesn’t know how much of that was real, either, and how much was him being bored, or mad at Kelly, or wanting to annoy Cassandra. She does know that she let it happen, that she’d sometimes flirt back. And that there’d sometimes be butterflies in her stomach when he’d say she looked cute, or asked her why she was blushing like that, or…

Will puts his arm around her shoulders, and she smiles up at him as they walk. This hike is definitely more of an actual hike and not just a walk like yesterday, but they’re on a flat part of the forest floor so it feels a little easier right now. Will putting his arm around her isn’t weird in the grand scheme of things, and she hates that she’s suspicious of it right now.

“Having fun?” he asks, and she nods, puts her arm around him, but he’s got a backpack on, so her hand just sort of sits over it. “It’s so pretty here.”

“I know. I can’t believe some people aren’t leaving the resort.” Honestly, it seems like such a waste to not get out and see as much as possible.

There’s a pause, and then Will takes his arm away, and Allie...God, she wishes she could just get over him, or…

“But you’ve only taken it upon yourself to make sure one person in particular gets out,” he says, and Allie’s filled with such a hot anger that she doesn’t trust herself not to react really emotionally. “I just don’t get it, Allie.” She narrows her eyes, stops walking. He stops, too. Harry and Becca - now joined by Sam, too - keep moving up ahead. “It’s not like he’s your friend.”

“It’s also not like someone has to be your friend for you to give a shit about them.”

Will tilts his head like that’s not a suitable response, which is bullshit. Because it is.

“He’s a jerk. You know he’s a jerk. Look at how he treated Kelly. He…”

She cuts him off, because how dare he? “We don’t know anything about how he treated Kelly,” she says. Will looks...She thinks it’s almost guilty, but also if she focuses on that too closely, she might honestly cry. Has he been talking to Kelly? Is she really that stupid? Is this all pointless? Can’t she just… “He’s always been nice to me.”

And it’s true. There’s never been a time she thought he was mean or rude or anything else. Maybe it’s the most basic approach here, but she thinks it’s valid. He’s been nice to her, and he's being nice to Becca and Sam, and he’s even being nicer to WIll than Will’s being to him. So who’s the asshole here?

“And you’re just gonna ignore the way he’s acted with Cassandra?” Will asks, like this is final, like there’s no argument around this. Allie hates that. She’s not that stupid. She also really hates when people try to argue this way, in absolutes. Actually, what she thinks bothers her most about it is that it’s not really arguing, it’s just him wanting to be right and not being open to other possibilities.

“She hasn’t been an angel to him, either,” she admits, and Will looks shocked. But everyone knows it’s true. Cassandra can be manipulative and controlling, and Allie’s well fucking aware of it. She’s seen on more than one occasion the way Cassandra acts like Harry’s less than she is. In general, she thinks no one deserves that. “And if it’s such a problem for you, why are you here?”

Okay, _that_ came out mean.

The way he says, “You’re my best friend,” after too long a pause is pointed and deliberate and absolutely she reads between the lines.

You’re my best friend, and he’s not. You’re my best friend, and I don’t like this, and that should matter.

You’re my best friend, and nothing more.

Allie feels a lump in her throat, which she can’t _stand_ , and then she’s blinking away tears, and she turns and starts walking away, trying to catch up with everyone else before Will can see her cry. He calls her name, but she doesn’t stop. Then he’s right there next to her, touching her arm, and she jerks away.

“Allie.”

“Don’t say anything else,” she says, sounding tired and sad and fucking _over it_. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

He tilts his head like he knows he’s hurt her and he wants to unravel all that, and Allie is so _mad_ at him for doing this here, now, when this has been going on for months. She feels like an idiot knowing he’s been aware of her feelings and not bothering to talk about them. Why is it only in hindsight that she can understand that if he’d ever given a single thought about the two of them together, as a couple, he would’ve taken advantage of the fact that she obviously would’ve been willing to try?

Honestly, she’s just over it.

(She’s not over it. She just doesn’t want to deal with it anymore. She won’t. Not with him. Not in front of him.)

“Do you want me to go back?” he asks, and it makes her mad, too. Why bother giving her choices now? She thinks it’s really unfair of him to act like this.

So she says, “You can do whatever you want,” because it’s true, and it’s always been true, and she’s honestly just too tired to deal with any of this right now.

He looks at her for a second, and then he turns and starts walking back the way they came. Allie thinks it’s pretty damn meaningful that what he wants is to not be around her. She wishes she would have known that before. And maybe they’ll be fine eventually, but they aren’t right now. When he’s far enough away and hasn’t looked back, she tilts her head up, looks up at the tops of the trees and feels the tears roll down her temples. She feels like the biggest idiot in the world. She feels like she wasted so much time on someone who was never going to see her the way she wanted him to.

She takes a couple minutes to compose herself, wipes her eyes and hopes no one will be able to tell she’s been crying. She also figures they’ve got to be way ahead now, and probably assume she and Will are just taking their time. It wouldn’t typically be unusual. She doesn’t really mind the quiet right now, just giving herself the time alone to...Well, to beat herself up over how stupid she’s been about all this.

She pulls out her phone. The service is spotty but she has bars right now. She texts Cassandra that she and Will talked and he’s clearly not into her. She says she’s fine, but she wants to talk later. Cassandra’s been encouraging her to tell Will about her feelings for ages. This feels like a ridiculous way to end it and despite the way things have been with Cassandra the past two days, she just really wants her sister right now.

About five minutes later, she rounds a bend in the path and sees Harry, Becca and Sam stopped there, all talking. She feels emotional again.

They waited for her.

Sam signs, “Where’s Will?” and Allie can’t stand any of this.

She can’t stand the look on Becca’s face like she just _knows_ what happened, or the little glance Becca and Sam share. She also can’t stand the way Harry’s watching her like even _he_ knows.

She walks past them, between them, and says, “He turned around,” and makes it really clear she doesn’t want to talk about this.

She hears whispering behind her but tries to ignore it, and then a few seconds later, Harry’s right by her side, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets and his shoulders all hunched up like he’s uncomfortable.

She’s not going to say anything. So if he’s been asked to check on her, he’s going to have to be the one to bring it up.

What he says, surprisingly, is, “You have mascara on your face,” and she thinks, at first, that he’s being a dick. But when she glances over, he’s got this soft expression on his face, and she realizes, thankfully before she snaps at him, that he’s telling her so she can clean herself up. She wipes under her eyes with her thumbs and he doesn’t watch.

“Thanks.”

He purses his lips like he doesn’t know what to do or say now. Then he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she answers. It’s too quick to be true, and she thinks he gets that, grins just a little like he can see right through it but isn’t going to call her on it. Good. “I feel stupid.”

She shouldn’t have said that. Shit.

Harry looks at her like he doesn’t get it. Or thinks she’s crazy. Or doesn’t agree.

“Why should you feel stupid?” he asks, defensive. She isn’t going to answer that. She doesn’t really want to talk about this anymore. Not with _Harry_. She just...She sort of wants him to see her as like, not some pathetic girl who wasn’t smart enough not to fall for her best friend. “Liking someone isn’t stupid.”

She scoffs. She _really_ doesn’t want to get into this with him.

“It is if you knew they’d never like you back and that didn’t stop you.”

“Still not stupid.” She likes the way he says it. Just a fact. “And like, if it’s been a while and he just ignored it…”

She’s embarrassed immediately. If he could tell, if Harry knew…

“Why do you think it’s been a while?”

He seems to consider how he wants to answer. She wonders what Becca and Sam told him while she and Will were talking.

But then Harry says, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve never looked at you before, Allie.”

His voice is gentle, quiet. She can almost hear him saying the same thing with a smirk and hitting on her. But this isn’t that. It’s much better. Or different. It throws her off.

“What?”

He smiles just a little, shrugs a shoulder. “I see you.”

Allie stays quiet. She’s just shocked enough to look downward and feel her cheeks heating up even though it wasn’t even a compliment or anything else that should elicit this reaction. But it feels nice.

“I don’t know what to say to that.” She thinks he might be embarrassed, too, or something. What the hell is going on? She needs to right this or they’ll end up awkward, as well. She can’t handle having complicated relationships with this many people on this trip. “What do you see?”

Yeah, that...That’s not going to help, is it? She’s fishing for compliments, or pushing him to share more than he clearly wants to.

But then he grins, and _oh_ , okay. There’s the shift. He’s going to flirt and she’s going to laugh and they’re going to be _fine_.

“Usually how good you look, honestly.”

She breathes out, “Harry,” and it’s kind of a laugh, and he chuckles when she shoves his arm. “So you got elected to come talk to me about all that?”

“Not really elected. Bullied.” Allie laughs through her nose and hooks her hands around the straps of her backpack. “But it also feels like the least I can do. You’ve single handedly saved me from depression, so.”

She looks at him and he’s still grinning, but there’s something about that statement that feels a little too close to some version of the truth.

She pauses a moment, turns to him and seriously considers taking him by the hand, but that feels like a lot. “Are we the two best, most free people in this entire place?” she asks, and Harry laughs out loud. It echoes through the trees a little, making her smile. “I feel like we’ve both had weight lifted from our shoulders.”

He grins down at her, eyes shining a little golden in this lighting, and says, “To fucking freedom.” Allie smiles too wide - feels it in her cheeks - and nods once, emphatically. Harry’s looking at her like he likes this more than he’s said.

She likes that, too.

… … …

As they approach the lodge, finishing their hike, Allie tells him she’s going to hang out with Cassandra and get some sisterly support. He doesn’t really know what that entails, because his sister’s a literal child. But he reads between the lines whether she intends it or not, and knows she’s basically saying she’s going to be locked away in one of the rooms and he definitely isn’t invited. Not that he wants to be invited, or thinks at all for a second he should be. He’s just saying - Allie’s sort of been his connection to anything social, and now she’s doing this other thing entirely.

Grizz and Luke are fucking around with slingshots at this makeshift range when they all get back. Harry’s tempted to have another nap, but he also wants to actually sleep tonight. He tells Becca, Sam and Allie he’ll catch up with them later. Allie smiles at him like she likes that he’s going to hang out with people, and Harry rolls his eyes which makes her laugh. He likes making her laugh. Probably too much.

Look, he wasn’t expecting to like, enjoy her company as much as he does. But when they got to the waterfall they were hiking to and she had this...this really kind of gorgeous look on her face that… He’s just noticing things about her. He likes her. All the things he thought about her before are true, but like, more. It feels like a really bad idea to let himself think this way about her. He’s been single a literal day and he knows what it’ll say about him if…

You know what, he needs to stop. Allie’s hung up on Will anyway and it doesn’t fucking matter. None of this matters. There’s not a chance anything’s going to happen. He just thinks she’s hot and nice to him. Like, _so_ hot and _so_ nice to him. He doesn’t expect anything more than that, and it’s also fine if he likes it.

“Good hike?” Grizz asks, looking past Harry to where Sam, Becca and Allie are walking on the path to the entrance of the lodge.

“Yeah,” he answers, and he could say something about how beautiful it was, or how much fun he had, or how Becca took a hundred pictures. But he doesn’t.

“Saw Will come back,” Luke says, and Harry can tell it’s been the talk of the whole place. Which is stupid. “What’s that about?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder, sits down on a tree stump and watches Grizz shoot and miss the target with a rock. “Fuck if I know. I’m not exactly Will’s confidante.”

He doesn’t feel badly for lying. It’s not his shit to tell, and he thinks it’d be fucked up if he told anyone what he knows about Allie and Will. Rumours are bullshit and he doesn’t think anyone deserves having people talk behind their back.

After a while, Luke hands over his slingshot, and this is like, really stupid but Harry takes a few turns and they both look at him like they’re surprised he’s a good shot. He doesn’t feel like getting into the whole thing about his dad and hunting for the second time in as many days, so he just says he has good hand eye coordination. Which is also true. It’s warm out now, later in the afternoon, and the sun is shining and there’s no tree coverage where they are. Harry peels off his long sleeved button down and tosses it onto his backpack where he dropped it earlier, so he’s wearing just a tee shirt. He sees Kelly and Helena walk out towards the big lawn or whatever. He sees Gwen and Erika over there, too, with water bottles or whatever on blankets. Helena’s holding a book. Kelly looks his way, meets his eyes but doesn’t smile or anything. Whatever. He wonders how long it’ll take for them to stop looking for each other in crowds.

Grizz smacks him on the back, and Harry just...He’s heard there’s another bonfire tonight and he sort of doesn’t want to deal with any more of this weird shit where everything’s all divided. Luke excuses himself, heads towards the girls. Harry’s half expecting Grizz to do the same, but he doesn’t. He just asks Harry for pointers on how to hit the target better.

After dinner he has a shower because he wants to and there’s nothing else to do until the fire’s lit. He grabs jeans and this plaid flannel he has with a quilted black vest, and laughs to himself a little at Allie’s comment yesterday about him being a mountain man or whatever. Whatever. He likes this shirt and it’s cool enough at night that he wants the extra layer. Plus, he looks good and he knows it.

He texts his mom because even though she hasn’t asked him how he is or if he’s like, alive, or whatever, he figures he should let her know he’s fine. Then he watches some show on National Geographic to pass some time and, honestly, take advantage of being alone for a bit to recharge his batteries, or whatever. He sort of wonders how it’s going with Cassandra. He sort of wonders if Will’s tried to talk to Allie again. He sort of thinks it’s fucked up that he doesn’t even have her number. Or Becca’s or Sam’s. He doesn’t even know what rooms they’re in, but they know his. What the hell?

Grizz comes up to grab a hoodie and Harry heads back down and outside with him. If it’s possible, things are even more wild tonight already than they were last night. Probably because most people got some sleep last night after a shitty night on buses. Harry spots Becca talking to that one girl whose face he recognizes but whose name he honestly can never remember. Kelly looks on her way to drunk, sitting with Jason, Clark and Gwen.

Harry pours himself a drink and stands next to Grizz, wonders out loud who’s brought weed and if he might be able to procure some. Grizz just laughs and says that there’s definitely someone in this crowd who snuck some. Harry comments that it’s not really sneaking if there’s literally no one around who gives a shit or bothered to check.

He’s just standing there talking and watching the shit show when someone puts their arms around him and presses all up against him from behind. And he laughs because it was kind of sudden, and then he looks over his shoulder and sees blonde hair and Allie’s smile and he puts his hand over hers on his stomach.

“Hey,” he says, and she grins up at him. Yeah, she’s definitely a little buzzed. Maybe a lot. “You good?”

“So good,” she says, then pulls her arms away. He sort of misses it but that’s probably just because he likes contact from cute girls and whatever. “We had shots in Cassandra’s room.”

He doesn’t know who ‘we’ is, explicitly, but looking at Allie, and Kelly, and Cassandra, he thinks he can probably guess. Shit. The thought of Allie and Kelly getting drunk together right now is… Like, is there any chance in hell they didn’t talk about him? Why is he so nervous about that?

But Allie’s cheeks are a little pink, and she’s smiling all cute, and she was just closer to him than she’s actually ever been. Kelly couldn’t have said anything too awful about him if Allie’s first instinct upon seeing him was to hug him.

Also, if he really thinks about it, he remembers that talking shit to people isn’t really at all Kelly’s thing. He’s not doing it about her and she’s not doing it about him and he thinks maybe this is the nicest thing they’ve done for one another in literally months.

“Shots of what?” he asks, more to keep the conversation going than because he actually cares.

Allie tilts her head like he should know the answer, which is ridiculous because he’s only been talking to her in any way that counts for like, two days. But then he takes her wrist gently, lifts her cup up to his nose and smells tequila mixed with that orange juice, and that was going to be his guess.

“Come sit by the fire with me?” Her eyes are all pleading, and she’s smiling, and he notices she’s wearing this sweater that looks like it was knit by a grandma, but somehow it really works on her.

So he grins back and says, “Yeah,” and ignores the look on Grizz’s face when he nods at him as he’s walking away. The guy just always looks like he knows too much, you know?

They sit down on one of the logs, just like they did last night. Harry thinks, honestly, that if this is going to be every night here it’s going to get old fast. He’s not saying he could think of at least 20 other things he’d rather do with Allie than this, but...He could definitely think of at least 20 other things he’d rather do with Allie than this. He wonders if it’d be weird - if it’s too soon or if she’d say no - if he invited her up to watch a movie tomorrow night instead of this. He just...crowds are fine, but he really gets a little anxious if he’s dealing with crowds all the time, you know? This isn’t like hosting a party at his house where he gets to act like the quarterback of the whole thing and everyone likes him. This is different and it somehow takes more of his energy.

Shit. She’s saying something. When he asks her to repeat herself, she just points out that they’re really close to Kelly and she’s making sure he’s okay with it.

Honestly, he doesn’t give a shit, but he isn’t sure there’s a way to say that that doesn’t make him look bad.

So he says, “I’m okay,” and Allie gives him this soft look he thinks he likes too much. He thinks he likes a lot of things about her too much. It’s becoming a theme.

Allie reaches for his drink, meets his eyes like she’s asking permission. Honestly, Harry thinks he’d say yes to anything she asked if she looked at him like that.

He really needs to get it together. What the fuck is he even saying?

He passes the cup to her and she takes a sip, makes a face.

“That’s like, straight whiskey.”

“I know,” he laughs. She hands it back to him, her nose crinkled. She chases with a bit of her own drink, but he can’t imagine a world in which that actually helps. “Some of us have taste, Pressman.”

She laughs, shakes her head, and says, “Bad taste,” which makes him roll his eyes. There’s a little silence, so he has a drink, notices Becca and Sam not too far away. Sam’s signing with one hand, his other holding a beer, and Becca laughs. “But also, I told you flannel would work on you and I was right.”

Harry’s brow goes up, and he smirks at Allie, and like, yeah, there’s no way to not flirt with her, right? Like, they just barely interact in ways that don’t constitute flirting. She’s gotta realize that, too, and she’s walking right into it. Actually, no. She’s the one who’s starting it.

He angles himself more towards her and she looks right into his eyes, which feels intense and hot.

“You could just tell me I look good.”

Her teeth slide over the corner of her bottom lip. He absolutely watches.

“Is that not what I just did?” she asks, and Harry feels himself soften, because now he’s curious, wondering if this is really what he thinks it is. “And let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly how hot you are.”

“I…” He stops, because _what_? He’s not stupid, okay? He knows how girls look at him, how he can get what he wants from them by looking the way he does and being charming, or whatever. But he isn’t like that with Allie, and yet here she is telling him she thinks he’s hot and looking at him like that and he doesn’t know what to _do_ with this.

Then she looks _way_ too cute and says, “You’re blushing,” like it’s some kind of secret or surprise she didn’t expect.

Earlier today she was literally crying over another guy, so there’s no way any of this means anything other than she thinks flirting is as fun as he does, and they’re good at doing it together.

“I’m not blushing,” he says defensively, but he’s just joking. She laughs, which is great. “Since when are you so bold?”

Allie rolls her eyes, turns towards the fire and plays with her hair at her temple. It’s almost like she realizes suddenly that she’s doing it and stops; like someone’s told her before she shouldn’t do it.

“Maybe you just don’t know me,” she says, smiling a little, and Harry laughs softly. She’s totally right, of course. “Like, at all.”

“Yeah?” he asks, which is stupid. “Tell me something, then.”

She looks back over at him, sort of over her shoulder with how she’s leaning a little forward. She looks good. Really good. Even with this goofy sweater on. It almost suits her.

“Like what?” Harry shrugs. Really her call. He sets his hand on the log between them. His pinky grazes her thigh a little. “I really like watching old movies.”

He smiles at her. He likes that bit of info. It also gives him an in to ask what he wanted to ask earlier about ditching this thing tomorrow night. He’s not gonna do it right now - no, he thinks flirting with her and then immediately asking her to hang out alone would be a weird move. Like, yeah he _wants it_ , but he isn’t gonna be gross about it.

“What’s your favourite?”

She smiles like she wasn’t expecting a follow up but likes that he’s asked.

“Like, anything early Meryl Streep.” He laughs. He figures that’s an argument free zone. “What’s yours?”

Shit. He wasn’t prepared for this at all.

“Anything Edward Norton.” She seems to like this answer, then gets this look on her face he can’t decipher.

“You really like acting, don’t you?”

Okay, also not what he was expecting. He shrugs, which feels stupid. Because she’s right and he thinks that of all people to admit it to, she’s literally the safest option. He has no reason to think she’d judge him. She hasn’t judged him for anything else. Why would she start now?

“Yeah,” he admits quietly, sips his drink. “I love it.” Allie gives him a pretty smile. She likes his answer. “Stage managing your calling?”

She tilts her chin up and grins. “It’s assisting, actually?”

He laughs. “Right.”

“Hiding in the shadows, wearing all black, headset digging into your ears, getting absolutely no thanks or recognition. All my favourite things.”

Okay, so, she hates it.

“Why not audition?”

She scoffs. “Oh, I don’t want to act, either. I kind of…”

She stops herself, looks down. He wants to know what she’s not saying. He reaches over with his hand that’s between them, nudges her thigh gently then pulls it away again.

“What?”

“I think I could be good at directing?” She says it like it’s a question, which is absolutely her way of downplaying it. But he thinks that’s also silly because like, he can sort of see it, honestly.

Maybe, really, he just thinks she’s fucking smart and could do anything. Rather, he has no reason to think she couldn’t. He’s staring. He looks down and she tips her drink back, finishes the rest.

“Refill?” he offers, but she shakes her head. Figures, she’d be responsible enough not to drink her face off. Weirdly, he likes that about her, too. You know, at this point he should just stop being surprised by the things he likes, and should instead only note when there are things he doesn’t. It’d probably be a short list.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

He can’t say he’s the most excited to wander through the woods in the dark, but then she’s taking him by the hand as she stands and he can’t really say no. They stop off at the table with all the alcohol so he can pour a splash more whiskey into his cup, and then start wandering down one of the paths. It’s not one that goes off the property. He and Allie are the only two out here, and they can still hear the party but it’s way quieter. He likes it better.

Allie takes his hand again when she sees they’re alone. He wants to say something about that, but he doesn’t want her to stop, either.

She asks, “Is this okay?” when the light is fading and he’s mostly dark and they’re definitely alone.

“Yeah, but what…” Okay, so she veers off the path a little so they’re into this little patch of forest. It’s not dangerous or whatever, because they’re like, 50 feet from the lodge. He doesn’t hate it, the way she turns so she’s in front of him and tugs so he moves closer. “It’s surprising.”

“Why are you such a flirt?” she asks, and she’s just smiling up at him, holding his hand while his other holds this stupid cup of whiskey. He’d honestly rather be holding her. “I mean, why do you flirt with me?”

Okay, so. He could lie. He could say he flirts with everyone, and it doesn't have to mean anything, but if she wants it to, it can. He could tell her he’s just an asshole and make her feel like she’s not special. He could make it sound like he hasn’t been noticing her in his periphery since he was like 15 fucking years old.

He doesn’t want to lie.

He also definitely doesn’t want to tell her the _truth_. Not all of it. Not the version that makes it look like he’s got feelings for her. Which he might. Maybe. He doesn’t know. It’s fucked up. Until yesterday he had a girlfriend. Regardless of how messed up their relationship was at the end, he also wasn’t wandering around considering other girls to date. No, all the feelings he has for Allie - whatever they are - have just started in the last couple days. Okay, not _all_. But most. And the ones he’s definitely sure about are like, pretty much limited to how he’d like to get her out of her clothes, if that’s a thing she’s down for.

Given that she’s looking at him like she is, touching him like this - sometime after asking the question, her hand ended up on his stomach over his shirt but under his vest - he’s thinking she could be down for something just the other side of friends.

“I like flirting with you,” he says honestly, and then reaches up with the hand holding his cup, uses his index finger to push her hair off her forehead. She’s just watching his face. This is hot. What the hell? “You’re sexy when you flirt back.”

Yeah, she likes that answer. She smiles, then reins it in, tilts her chin up.

He thinks she’s gonna kiss him.

What she does instead is say, “Kelly had nice things to say about you.”

So that throws him.

He takes a sip of his drink, hoping it makes him look chill and not panicked. “Yeah?”

Allie nods, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way she looks at his lips. Why are they talking about his ex when they could be…

“Is it really over?” she asks, and yeah, he looks at her like she’s crazy, because _what_? “I just mean...You’ve broken up before and gotten back together.”

He feels really sure of it when he says, “We’re not gonna get back together.” Allie’s watching him. He meets her eyes. Even in the dark, she looks really pretty. It’s not so dark that he can’t make out her face or whatever. “I don’t want to.” And because he thinks he gets what she’s pointing them towards here: “What about Will?”

She closes her eyes. Maybe she was hoping he wouldn’t say anything, but it’s not really fair of her to ask about his shit and expect him not to ask about hers.

She replies, a little tersely, “What about him?”

Harry smiles knowingly, gently, and ducks his head a little so he’s closer to her. “You seemed really upset earlier. What if he changes his mind?”

Allie’s hand moves up his body, which feels good; warm and solid. She curves it around his ribs. “He’s not going to.” Yeah, that’s not really good enough. He sighs. Allie rolls her eyes as she looks away, seems to think about it, and then looks back at him. “If he changes his mind, that makes it worse.” He doesn’t get that, and furrows his brow. “I won’t just wait around.”

“And you wanna…” He pauses, considers what’s actually happening here. “...Not wait around with me?”

She smiles too big, but it’s still hot, and nods. “If you want.”

She wets her lips. She lets go of his other hand and puts hers on his hip just over his belt. Her fingers slip up under the bottom of his shirt somehow. _Fuck_

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds quiet, choked. He just… “Yeah. I want.” She takes a breath, and her fingers slide over the skin of his hip, and like, god, why is that so fucking hot? He’s sort of surprised she has it in her. Though maybe what she has in her is tequila and that’s helping. “I wanna kiss you.”

“Do it.” Her voice is soft, and her hands are fucking killing him, and she tips her head back just as he leans in, and then his lips are against hers. She’s all soft and gentle, just moving with him a little, and then her hand, the one against his ribs, closes into a fist with his shirt in it.

He really wants to put this fucking cup down. Allie whines just a little when he pulls away, but he knocks back the rest of the drink and drops the cup. Then puts both hands on her face, and she’s smiling all big and pretty before he kisses her again.

It’s just a few minutes. Maybe like, three. They spend three minutes making out among these stupid trees, and he moves them so her back’s against one, and she makes these _really_ cute sounds that drive him insane. But then she puts her hand on his chest and presses gently. She’s smiling, and he rests his forehead against hers. They’re just breathing together, and Allie pecks his lips quickly.

“You’re a good kisser.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh, but like. What the fuck?

“Why’d you stop?” he asks. It’s important. He could’ve kept...Honestly, he could’ve just not stopped at all and been fine.

“Let’s go back,” she says, and laughs at him when he pouts. He doesn’t mean to. He just...liked kissing her.

But what he says instead is, “Whatever you want,” because he thinks it’s important to let her know he’s familiar with boundaries.

She bends down to pick the cup up off the ground, presses it against his chest as she walks backwards. She says, “Don’t litter,” and then laughs as she literally takes off in a slow jog back towards the party.

Harry puts a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. He follows her. Obviously.

… … …

She doesn’t want to get out of bed.

She’s not hungover, because she just had two quick shots and one drink. She didn’t drink anything after that. No, she’s not hungover and she feels fine. She doesn’t want to get out of bed because she’s worried that everyone’s going to be able to see it all over her face that she made out with Harry. And that’s an absolutely irrational line of thinking, but here she is at 9:30, with breakfast service ending in a half hour, still under the covers in her shorts and tee shirt. Becca’s left already - she and Sam joined the group heading in on shuttle buses to Pigeon Forge to go to the zoo. Allie hates seeing animals in captivity unless they’re proper conservation centres, which this one isn’t. So she decided not to go. She thinks Will and Kelly were last minute additions. Cassandra’s going, too.

Allie knows exactly who’s left.

He texted her 20 minutes ago asking what her plans are for the day.

It’s the first message he’s ever sent her. Of course it is. She only gave him her number last night. After she made out with him and then _literally_ ran away because she couldn’t believe she’d been so bold. They’d been separated for about an hour. She’d watched him fill his cup with beer just once. She'd watched him drinking from across the space. She’d watched him catching her eye whenever he could. God, once, he’d noticed her looking and run his index finger along his bottom lip as he talked to Jason and Shoe.

He knows _exactly_ how to get to her. She shouldn’t like it so much.

(She should. She’s allowed to. She wants to.)

And like, maybe it’s really stupid to get into this casual, physical thing with a guy she truly feels like she barely knows, but this trip feels like honestly the perfect time to do something that proves she’s still a fucking teenager. God, she _is_ messed up over Will, and Harry’s newly single, and _no one has to know_. And when they get back home, they don’t have to continue it if they don’t want to. It makes sense to keep it as a silly, stupid, high school trip thing. And this trip has literally no adults or rules, and so what better time to do something that feels _good_ without thinking it to death?

She says, as she refuses to either respond to his message or get out of bed.

She’ll do one before the other, says she’s got no plans and asks what he’s got in mind. He sends back a picture of a small wooden deck with two chairs on it, says he’ll save her a spot. It’s so stupid and perfect and she doesn’t want to think it’s sweet, but it is. It _is_. There’s a little stream in the photo, too, and everything’s super green, and she sort of loves the idea of sitting in that Adirondack chair next to him and talking all day.

(That very much does not align with her thinking they’re starting this casual thing, but. Well, here they are. She’s just...deciding to go with whatever feels good at the moment. This feels good.)

She runs down to grab food, just a bunch of things she can eat on the go, and then starts brewing a pot of coffee in the room while she takes a shower. Harry drops her the location and it’s really close. She pulls on these comfortable but really unflattering pants her mom got her for the trip, a white tee shirt and this grey sweater that’s definitely Cassandra’s and she’s just sort of inherited it by way of never actually giving it back after borrowing it. She fills her metal water bottle with coffee and grabs the mugs from the room, places them in her backpack with her food and really tries not to question what the hell she’s doing.

Harry’s sitting with his head tipped back and looking up at the sky when she walks up. She considers just sitting down in the chair next to him, but that’s not really what she wants. It’s not what she wants at all.

No, what she does is set her backpack down gently, then set her hand on the arm of his chair so she can lean down and kiss him.

She almost regrets it. It’s too much. They’re not dating. They aren’t a couple.

But then Harry slips his hand up onto the back of her neck and his tongue gently sweeps into her mouth, so. That makes it all feel less innocent. She appreciates that. She also just...he _is_ really a good kisser.

“Hey,” he breathes, and his fingers move a little against her skin. “That was quite a good morning.”

She lets out a laugh and moves to sit down in the other chair, then pulls her backpack onto her lap. “Morning.”

She pulls out the mugs and pours coffee and Harry says, “You’re a fucking saint,” when she passes a mug to him. He cradles it in both hands and looks more enamoured with coffee than she’s ever seen him with anything else.

“I brought mini chocolate chip muffins, too.” Harry smiles at her like...god, like he _likes_ her, or something. “How come you didn’t go to the zoo with everyone else?”

He pulls a face. “Zoos are bullshit,” he tells her, and she looks over at him but he’s glancing out at the water, or something. He’s not looking at her face to see her reaction. “I dunno. Maybe it was all those trips with my dad. Which I know are fucked up in their own way. But seeing animals caged after you’ve seen them in the wild is...What?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, and he looks nervous or embarrassed, or something. “I feel the same.” Harry grins, sips his coffee. Allie pulls her feet up onto her chair so her knees are bent. “Tell me some of your other strongly-held opinions?”

Harry laughs, looks over at her like he likes _this_ , too, and she wishes she were closer to him. Actually, she sort of wishes they were sitting all pressed up against one another. Together.

He seems to contemplate it for a minute, then says, “Is it me or does this whole trip feel weird?”

Allie freezes. Is he referring to this? Them? To the fact that literally until three days ago they interacted only when they had to, and now she’s kissing him good morning and bringing him coffee? Or is she reading way too much into it and should maybe just ask a clarifying question, like a normal person?

“Weird how?”

“When was the last time you went on even a day trip for school without teachers and parents chaperoning?” he asks, and Allie’s stomach drops. She meets his eyes and he seems to be able to tell he’s scared her already. “We’re just like, dropped off at this lodge to do whatever the fuck we want for a week?”

Allie looks back out at the stream in front of them. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Her parents literally never would’ve let her and Cassandra go on a trip without adult supervision. So there’s no way that wasn’t part of the original plan. What the hell happened between her parents sighting the consent forms and them getting on the buses? And why is she thinking about this for the first time only because Harry’s bringing it up?

“I don’t know,” she says, which isn’t even a logical response to anything he’s said. He’s just watching her.

“I didn't mean to freak you out.”

“I mean, maybe this is like, the twilight zone,” she says, and his smile widens but he doesn’t say anything. She leans her head back against the chair and looks at him. “How else do we explain this, too?”

“This, us?” he asks, and Allie knows she smiles too widely. He doesn’t say anything about it.

“Oh, we’re an us now?”

He scoffs a little, tilts his head. “I mean, you made out with me in the woods last night, so.”

“You…” She narrows her eyes at him, but she’s not really mad. She just wants to make a distinction. “We made out with each other.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but maybe literally bites his tongue. It’s hot on him. What _isn’t_ hot on him, actually? And she wants to know what he’s thinking. She feels like she did a lot of the talking last night, and she worries she sort of...Look, as much as she doesn’t need or want this to be anything other than casual, she also doesn’t want to think he’s only doing it because the opportunity presented itself and he seized it. No, she wants to know he likes her at least a little.

(She knows that. She’s known it for a while. Maybe since before here, even. Maybe since the time last year when he came up to her at her locker, snatched one of the photos in there from the magnet that’d been holding it, and said, “Hot outfit.” She’d taken it back from him because she didn’t even know which picture it was. It was her and Becca from March break, when they’d taken the train into New York and spent a day dicking around in the city before going to see Hamilton at night. It honestly wasn’t even an outfit she’d put a lot of thought into. So she’d asked Harry, “Yeah?” and he’d nodded and smirked at her like he could absolutely see through what she was doing, which was, definitely, trying very hard to not just flirt back.)

“I don’t think it’s like, unbelievable that we’d make out,” he says, sounding quiet, and maybe he’s thinking of that moment at her locker, too - or one of the others like it - because he’s not looking at her and he sounds like he’s seeking the same thing she is here.

God, how in the fucking world are they going to pretend this is nowhere near serious when they both clearly ache for approval and attention the way they do?

“No?”

He can definitely see right through her. She wants to be closer. These chairs are too far apart and also really poorly built for two people who want more contact. This is dumb. She wonders how bad it’d be if she just went over and sat on his lap. Probably bad, right? Probably. He’d like it. She knows he would. He wouldn’t stop her. But right now, he’s got this expression on his face that’s telling her he knows she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She doesn’t want to feel badly for wanting him to say it out loud.

“You’re hot,” he says, and like, she knows he feels this way. He’s said it before. Lots. But it still feels nice to hear. “I think you’d be surprised how many guys would wanna make out with you.” Honestly, she doesn't know if that’s as flattering as he’s trying to make it sound. “It’s not like I’ve never thought about it, is what I’m saying.”

She knows she’s staring. And she doesn’t doubt at all that he’s telling her the truth. Because she knows that despite him being in a relationship for as long as he was, he’s still a teenaged boy. Like, if he talked to her the way he did when he wasn’t single, it stands to reason he’d had other thoughts, too. For example, she’s never thought someone was hot and not wanted, at least subconsciously, to kiss them. Or known, anyway, that she’d do it if they were in the right place at the right time.

(Once, backstage during play rehearsal like, a month ago, it was just her and Harry in the dark. He’d come up behind her and leaned his arm on the wall above her shoulder, and the heat of his chest was against her back. When she looked over her shoulder at him, he’d said, “Who do you watch when I’m not on stage?” and it was so fucking ridiculous that she’d just laughed and shoved her elbow back gently into his side. He’d chuckled and moved, but she spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if he’d _noticed_ that sometimes she absolutely did watch _him_.)

Allie’s a little overheated, thinking about him thinking about her.

“How cold do you think that water is?” she asks, and Harry looks at her like she’s insane.

“Fucking cold. Why?”

She toes off her shoes, takes her socks off and rolls up her pants, then sits at the edge of the little deck. The water doesn’t come up very high, so when she drops her legs down, just her toes and the bottoms of her feet hit the surface. He’s right - it’s frigid. But she likes it. It’s refreshing. She leans back on her hands, and then Harry’s next to her, doing the same. She notices that his legs must be a lot longer, because the water hits his ankles. She likes that he doesn’t say anything or react at all to the temperature. She likes that he’s close, his arm leaning over hers when he mimics her posture.

“Having second thoughts?” he asks, sounding softer than she would’ve expected. Allie shakes her head. The ends of her hair are touching her hands. She should get a cut when they get back home.

“No,” she says, and then, to be stupid, “Wanted to cool off after you admitting you’ve spent all that time thinking about kissing me.”

Harry lets out a soft laugh, but then he’s watching her like she keeps surprising him.

Then he leans over without a lot of warning, presses his lips to hers, and looks almost _shy_ when he pulls away. Allie just watches him a moment, wonders if she’s reading this right. Because it feels like he just kissed her solely because he couldn’t help himself, or really wanted to, and like when she first came out here and joined him, that doesn’t feel very casual. She knows it’s dangerous that she really doesn’t mind. They’re figuring it out.

“What was that?” she asks, and Harry shakes his head, then his pinky brushes hers and she shouldn’t find that as sweet as she does, either.

“I dunno. I just wanted to, and figured it wouldn’t bother you if I went for it.”

She smiles, looks his way, and almost, _almost_ considers asking him to take her back to the lodge before everyone gets back.

Instead, she says, “It didn’t bother me,” and she thinks he says, “I know,” and then she asks him about college because she thinks maybe they both need a reminder that this is temporary and not serious and this will serve as one.

Two hours later, they’re still sitting on this stupid deck, their chairs closer together and Harry’s hand playing with hers as they talk, when she gets the urgent text from Cassandra saying she’s forgotten her medicine, didn’t want to say anything, but is struggling and at hospital and mom and dad are flying her home. Harry doesn’t understand what Allie’s so upset about and she doesn’t want to explain it all to him. No, that’s not true. She absolutely does want to explain it. She just doesn’t have time. She’s kind of freaking out.

She calls her mom, who explains something about prescriptions and primary care physicians and specialists. Allie doesn’t understand why they can’t just give Cassandra enough pills to get her through the trip. But her mom says something about the stress already on her heart, and Allie is so _mad_ at her sister for going _days_ without her medication without fucking saying anything. Harry’s hand is on her back and she hasn’t actually faced him or looked at him since she got on the phone. She hates that this is comforting to her. That’s not supposed to be what this is. But Harry keeps surprising her, even with this thing that he doesn’t have to care about at all.

She asks her mom if she should come home, too, and holds her breath waiting for an answer. Her mom says, “No, sweetie. Everything’s fine. Stay and have fun. We’ll see you at the end of the week.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. We love you. Send me more pictures!”

Once she’s hung up, she wipes her fingers beneath her eyes and Harry’s still touching her and still only knows half the story. But he hasn’t _left_. He’s stayed here the whole time. Allie wants to thank him.

Instead of asking anything about Cassandra or what the fuck has happened and what’s going on, he asks, “Are you okay?” and Allie turns around and leans against him, her face against his shoulder. He hesitates a moment before putting his arms around her, but then wraps her up tightly and she takes a deep breath.

“You’re as good at hugging as you are at kissing,” she says without really thinking.

His lips are against her ear when he says, “I’m as good at other things, too,” and it feels so _right_ , so _normal_ , that it makes her laugh, turn her head and press her lips against his neck. She thinks he’s kind of amazing for making this seem okay. Calm. Like this - _they_ \- can exist separately from all the other shit going on.

That feels really important. She can’t put her finger on exactly why.

… … …

Harry’s in his room with the curtains closed and the lights low after dinner. He can hear the beginning of the night’s party outside and continues channel surfing, turns the volume up a bit.

Today was crazy. No, today was kind of awesome until Allie got that messed up news. He honestly didn't even realize how long they’d spent just sitting there talking, his hand holding hers over the arm of those stupid chairs. He likes talking to her, which is no surprise, really. But then she was dealing with family stuff that seemed big and heavy and _a lot_ , and he’s got some experience with shit like that. So even though he didn’t know what was going on, other than what he could glean from her half of the conversation, which is like, Cassandra needing life-preserving medication and not being able to access it, he wasn’t just going to bail and leave Allie on her own. He’s a little surprised, honestly, that she didn’t ask him to go. He’s glad she didn’t, though. He’s glad he could help. And then, as they waited for Cassandra to return, Allie told him the whole story. Heavy isn’t even the right word. He sort of gets, now, why Allie and Cassandra are so close. He gets why Allie protects her, defends her. He understands that Allie doesn’t want to waste time away from her sister; she said those words. She also said that this trip...she’s been treating it as a bit of a trial run to what it’ll be like when Cassandra goes to Yale. He has some weird feelings about...like is she only hanging out with him because her normal person is off limits because of some self-imposed thing? But then he thinks that’s just him being kind of an asshole and making himself sound more important than he is. And he doesn’t genuinely think Allie’s the kind of person who’d fuck with anyone’s emotions like that just to serve herself.

Anyway, Sam and Allie are driving Cassandra to the airport in Knoxville using a car they’re renting from the desk at the lodge. Harry didn’t offer to go with or to drive, because that would be fucking weird. There’s no way Cassandra wouldn’t ask a million fucking questions about it. And considering she’s got a heart defect, or whatever, he thinks it’d be a bad thing if she found out that her younger sister is involved with him in any way other than just friendship.

He also thinks it’s a little naive of him and Allie both to think Cassandra won’t fucking figure it out anyway. But it’ll sure be easier to navigate all that when Cassandra isn’t here, and yeah, it makes him a total dick to think that way, but he doesn’t care. It’s a fact, and she’s leaving. _He’s_ not the cause of it.

He saw Kelly at dinner. She was sitting with Becca and Will, actually. Harry sat down next to her and asked if she was okay. She nodded and gave him a little smile like she was glad he was checking in. She’s the only one on the trip with her own room now, and he won’t lie and say he’s not jealous. But look, he still like, cares about her as a human, so he doesn’t want it to seem like it’s surprising or extraordinary that he check in with her.

He still got up and went to eat his dinner with other people. But that was because he didn’t want to be around Will, to be honest. It didn’t have anything to do with Kelly.

He dozes a little as a Marvel movie he found plays in the background. He has his laptop, so he could definitely level up from shitty Tennessee cable, but he’s not really interested in having to pay attention to something that serious. It’s 9pm when Allie texts him asking where he is. He tells her he’s in his room, and five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. He really, really needs to not be as happy about it as he feels. It’s like, not normal to be so excited to see someone you spent almost a whole day with.

She’s standing there in a pair of little black cotton shorts and a white v neck tee shirt and has a small cardboard box in her hand.

“I got you a cupcake. Sam and I found this place in Knoxville.”

Harry leans against the door, smiles at her. She looks up at him hotly. Like, he’s not saying she’s hot. (Well, she _is_ , but…) He’s saying there’s something sexy in her eyes that he wants to know more about. “Well, what kind of cupcake?”

Allie rolls her eyes, sets her hand just below his chest and pushes, then walks past him into the room. He lets the door close behind them and checks out her ass in those shorts.

“I took you for plain vanilla,” she says, and it sounds like an insult, and she looks a little too pleased with herself for it, but then hands him the box. He opens it. It’s not vanilla. “Salted caramel.”

He just says, “I love salted caramel,” even though it’s a huge exaggeration.

She looks at the television, bites her bottom lip. “Can I hang out here with you?”

He furrows his brow. Why would she think she needed to ask? “Yeah.”

“I just didn’t know if you wanted to be alone.”

Harry smiles, steps closer and puts a hand on her waist. He reaches over and sets the box down on the dresser next to them, then has both hands on her like he’s honestly wanted to do all day. Maybe since last night, honestly.

“Why would I wanna be alone when I could be with you?” he asks, and Allie gives him this look like she knows he's just talking shit. He thinks he might be, too. But he does know he likes the idea of being in a hotel room alone with her. So there’s that. “Also, you look really hot right now.”

She laughs loudly, like she wasn’t expecting him to say that. He really doesn’t know why not.

He thinks she wants to say something, but instead, she leans up on her toes, her hands against his chest, and kisses him. It’s good because it’s kissing, but it’s entirely too quick and a little hard, and he wasn’t expecting it. By the time he can respond, she’s flat footed again and pulling away from him, walking over to his bed and leaning back against the pillows. Her legs are outstretched and crossed at the ankle, and Harry takes a moment, tilts his head, just so he can look at her. Like, he won’t say he never thought this would happen, but he will say that Allie on his bed is definitely a thing he likes. Better if it was his bed at home and half Grizz’s shit wasn’t spilling out of his duffle bag like 10 feet away. But still.

“We can find something else to watch,” he tells her, and yeah, he really wants to eat that cupcake, so he grabs the box again and joins her, sits shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip with her.

She shakes her head. “This is fine. Winter Soldier is obviously one of the best movies in the franchise.”

He doesn’t know anything about that. “I haven’t seen them all.”

“Really?” He shrugs, pulls the cupcake from the box. It looks fucking delicious, honestly. He takes a bite and Allie’s watching him. He knows he has icing on his mouth, but whatever. This is _good_. He holds it out in offering, but she shakes her head. “I had one earlier.”

“Stop staring,” he laughs, and she looks away.

But then says, “There’s something really hot about seeing you a little messy,” and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that, honestly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” She glances over again, and he takes another bite. Even he doesn’t know if he timed it that way on purpose. “You usually look so put together. Except your hair, which is perpetually disheveled.”

Harry licks his lips, smirks at her. “Sounds like you spend a lot of time looking at me, Allie.”

Her eyes lock with his, and she shrugs the shoulder closest to him, and he’s seriously considering just like, putting his body over hers and pressing her into the mattress.

“Maybe I do,” she says. He wishes he wasn’t literally eating. He wonders if she’s being like this deliberately when she knows he’s not gonna be able to do anything about it. “I think you know everyone pays attention to you. I think you like it.”

He laughs a little, takes another bite. And she’s right. He does like attention. He likes that people watch him and know about him and talk about him. Even if they’re talking shit, they’re still talking about him. And he knows - he absolutely knows - that it’s a fucked up response to the lack of attention he gets from the people he wants it from most. He’s got a dead dad and a distant mom who’d rather talk to anyone but him. When people look at him, want to be around him, he hangs onto that because he doesn’t honestly know when it’ll happen again.

Allie’s eyes are soft and she’s looking at him. “Sorry. Did I...was that out of line?”

How long was he zoned out?

“No,” he says, and throws on a smirk for good measure. “I like your attention.”

She watches him a second, seeming to think about what it is she wants to say. What she decides is, “You don’t have to like, do that thing where you deflect and make it sound like you don’t have feelings.”

“I’m not.”

He takes another bite. Does that prove her point? Shit. He doesn’t know. He can tell she sees right through him. It makes him fucking uncomfortable.

“Okay,” she says, and turns to him a little more, which makes them lose contact all along his side. “So tell me something real about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Allie tilts her head like she’s really just not interested in playing the fucking game with him, and like, he should hate this. But he doesn’t. Maybe because she’s had a brutal day and he witnessed parts of it and, he thinks, he helped her with some of the stuff she was going through. “I played water polo.”

Allie laughs out loud, then covers her mouth with her hand and looks worried she’s offended him. She hasn’t. He knows how stupid and typical it is.

“Of course you did.” He licks the last of the icing from his fingers and watches her watch him do it. So. Interesting. “Were you good?”

“Yeah, I was good.” There’s a silence, and he grins. Okay fine. “My team was good. I was okay.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Honestly?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, please lie.”

It makes him laugh. She’s funny. “I didn’t wanna get hurt.” Her brows go up. “It’s fucking brutal, okay?”

“Mhm.”

“It is,” he laughs. It _is_. “I witnessed like, four broken noses and at least three concussions.”

She looks his face over once, then says, “Can’t jeopardize the moneymaker, right?”

He smirks. “You said it, not me.”

Allie laughs again, then moves, leans against him and he moves his arm. She’s all tucked up beside him and she sets her hand on his stomach and then immediately starts playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. So that’s distracting as fuck. His hand, the one that’s around her, is all tangled up in her hair, which she doesn’t seem to mind. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, and he wonders if this is like, her decompressing after a pretty messed up last bunch of hours. When he looks down at her, her eyes slip closed, and like, yeah, she can sleep if she wants to, but he’d sort of like to make out with her. God, he wants to kiss her. He’s pretty sure he’s been thinking about kissing her since Becca turned around on the bus and started talking about hookups and then Sam mentioned Allie.

Should he be thinking more about Kelly and their breakup and what that means and how his mom’s gonna react. It shouldn’t be so fucking easy to sit here with another girl and want her so badly, right? And it _really_ shouldn’t be so easy to like, talk to Allie and _like her_. Like, he’s absolutely fucking kidding himself if he legitimately thinks this is just physical. They’ve only kissed like, five times. But here she is, cuddling him. He’s helping her through family shit and she’s asking him questions about his life that he’s actually answering.

He doesn’t have it in him to think about this too hard right now.

Especially not when Allie tilts her head up a little, her lips pressing right against the underside of his jaw. It’s so unexpected and feels so good he just lets his eyes slip closed, and then she’s moving, shifting a little against him. Her fingers graze his other cheek and he pulls her closer, and then she just...She sits back, moves so easily so she’s on top of him, her hips over his and her thighs on either side of him. His hands find them easily, all that bare skin right there for him when her shorts ride up. And he knows he’s smiling up at her. He thinks she puts her hand into his hair to mess it up even more, and then she grins a little which looks hot as hell, right before she leans in and presses her mouth against his.

He knows he’s been telling her a lot how hot she is, but that’s because he’s like, continually knocked over by it. Jesus fuck, she’s literally just...on top of him, kissing him, letting him put his hands up under her shirt. Then she sucks gently on his bottom lip and laughs a little when he groans. He doesn’t remember this part of shit with Kelly. The part where you just make out and it feels _good_ but you’re also just learning what the other person likes. He doesn’t want to sound like an asshole about it, but he hasn’t kissed anyone but Kelly in like two years and he knows it’s absolutely hormones talking when he wonders why the hell not.

He lifts Allie just a little, and she gets the hint, leans up on her knees so he can lie down fully, and then his hand’s in her hair drawing her back to him.

She says, “This feels really good,” and she’s a little breathless, and honestly, if he thinks too hard about those words it’s going to make him fucking crazy. So he just nods and kisses her again.

He also doesn’t remember, honestly, the last time he just made out without it leading to something else, and there’s something really hot about it. He definitely doesn’t think Allie’s gonna be down for anything more, and he’s totally fine with that. He likes the way her mouth opens for him, the way one hand is on his chest and the other’s bracing her above his shoulder, the way, after a while, she shifts her hips just a little. There’s no way she can’t feel exactly what she’s doing to him, and the fact that she lets out this little sound… Fuck.

When she says, “We should stop,” it’s against his lips, and it’s been...he doesn’t know how long it’s been. The movie’s over and a different one has started. He’s been wanting to take her shirt off and just worked up the nerve to push the fabric up her back a bit. She sits up, which feels fucking incredible, and her hair is all over one shoulder, messy from his hands, and her lips are red and her eyes glassy.

“Should we, though?” he asks, and lets his index finger hook into the waist of her shorts just a little before releasing the fabric. Allie laughs, but it’s pretty heated. “Do you want to stop?”

Because yeah, he’s not gonna ignore her words even if the look on her face is saying something different.

“No,” she admits, and then takes a deep breath, rubs her lips together. “But that’s why we should.” Okay, fuck. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, and he meant for it to sound like he’s teasing her, but it comes out low and he watches her shoulders drop like he’s making this difficult for her. “Like I want you? ‘Cause I do.”

She breathes out, “Harry.”

“That’s not helping.”

She laughs, then, and moves, slides off him so she’s next to him on the bed again. He turns on his side so he’s facing her and tucks his hands up under his cheek. Allie turns her head against the pillow and just looks at him, then reaches over and pushes his hair back, her fingertips moving against his scalp in a way that feels really fucking good, too.

“When do you think Grizz will be back?” she nearly whispers, and like…

“Why do you ask?” She laughs, shoves at his chest a little. He just grabs her hand and holds it there. “Not sure. Late?” She nods, but there’s something going on there. He really does want to know why she’s asking. He’s not just trying to hook up with her. “Do you not want him to see you here, or something?”

Honestly, it’d be fair. He can’t imagine she wants a bunch of people to know. He doesn’t really, either. Not that he’s embarrassed or anything stupid like that. He’s just...he knows what it’ll look like to other people. To Kelly. And like, they’d be right, wouldn’t they? That he’s jumping fast into something with another girl. Also, he doesn’t want people to think badly of Allie, or for them to think he’s using her as a rebound and she doesn’t have a say in it. They won’t know this was all her idea in the first place. People will be shitty and judge her either way.

“Probably best if he doesn’t,” she says. Harry nods. “But I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I mean…”

He stops himself because he doesn’t want to push her. Even though what he wants to say is absolutely fucking true.

“What?”

He shrugs, pushes a hand through her hair and then rests his hand on her cheek. “It’s pretty unlikely you’ll hear me ask you to leave my bed, Allie.”

She just stares at him for a moment, and then closes her eyes and turns, flops onto her back like yeah, this is making her as crazy as it’s making him. He laughs a little and she tells him to shut up, and then he just hands her the remote and tells her to find something good for them to watch.

She kisses the hell out of him before she opens the door to leave around 1am, tells him she’ll see him tomorrow, and when the door closes behind her, he takes a deep breath and thinks it’s probably not fucking normal to be as into her as he is.

… … …

It rains all day. From the time they’re eating breakfast until well after they go to bed. Allie’s enjoying her waffles with peanut butter, like she does at home, takes a picture and sends it to her family group chat while Becca and Harry comment on how gross it is. Becca’s sticking with plain toast, fruit and scrambled eggs. Harry’s saying something Allie thinks is a joke about how he’d kill for an eggs benny but he doesn’t trust a place like this not to ruin a hollandaise. Asshole. Sam signs the word and Allie and Becca laugh and Harry’s out of the loop and when she finally tells him what the sign is, he just rolls his eyes and calls them all jerks. His foot presses against Allie’s under the table and she thinks of how he felt under her last night.

The lodge doesn’t seem to care that a bunch of people congregate all in the great room, or whatever, where the big fireplace is. Becca and Allie just don’t want to do that. Becca brought nail polish and suggests they go up to one of their rooms and do their nails, and Harry and Sam don’t seem to have anything better to do. How they end up in Harry and Grizz’s room, Allie still isn’t sure. But they turn on some music and play it from the bluetooth speaker Grizz brought, and Allie smiles almost the entire time, she thinks. Cassandra is texting her now that she’s back in Connecticut. She says their parents are freaking out and scared and pissed at her. Allie is, too, but doesn’t say as much. Becca keeps getting mad at her for pulling her hand away so she can text.

The colour is a pale blue, almost robin’s egg, and something Allie never would’ve picked for herself. It’s pretty, though. When she’s done and her nails are dry and Grizz is saying he’s game to have his done, Allie moves so he can sit down, and then goes to sit next to Harry on his bed. Again. She...last night is all she can think about, and she thinks it’s true for him, too, if the way he’s looking at her is any indication.

He lifts her hand, looks at her nails. “Cute.”

“I’m cute. I don’t know what to tell ya.”

He lets out a hum and they look at one another too long, and then she forces herself to look away before anyone can notice.

Minutes later, he texts her from literally right next to her, says he wishes he had her alone, and she tries not to blush and replies that he should definitely stop. When she sees the notification on his screen, she sees he’s got her saved as her first and last names, which she thinks is stupid.

She takes his phone after he’s unlocked it, says, “What are we, business associates?” and changes her name to just her first name and the yellow heart emoji.

“Why this?” he just asks, but he’s grinning, so she thinks he thinks it’s cute, too.

“Because I’m a ray of sunshine,” she says, and his brow furrows like he knows that’s too rehearsed, or something. She figures there’s no harm in telling him the whole actual story. Which isn’t a big long thing, or whatever. It’s just an anecdote. “My dad’s nickname for me has been sunshine since I was a baby.” Harry smiles at her like he likes that she’s telling him this. She needs to ignore that because it feels too serious. It’s all a little delicate. “I dunno. I also just really like yellow. So it’s stars and this heart and he like, randomly sends me voice notes of him singing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ sometimes.” Harry’s just looking at her, face sort of blank, and she… Why is he just staring? “What?”

“That’s really nice,” he says softly, gently, like he’s being really genuine about it, and god, she sort of loves his voice like this. “I get it. If people are colours, you’re definitely yellow.”

Allie presses her lips together. She wants to kiss him. She thinks that’s kind of the nicest thing he’s said to her yet, and it’s absolutely stupid to feel that. To feel this good about it.

He grins at her like he knows exactly what she’s thinking, what she wants to do. He doesn’t have to be so fucking smug about it.

Later, after the lights are out in their room, Becca asks her what’s going on with her and Harry. Allie says it’s nothing. Becca says, “Mhm,” and it doesn’t matter that it’s dark and she can’t see, Allie can hear the smile there.

The next day, Harry goes off with his friends on a hike and Allie and Becca end up with Kelly, Helena, that girl Elle, Gwen, Erica and Bean, and a few others who decide to come along. They all decide to walk to this meadow, or whatever, because some people want to soak up sun. Allie’s fine with just going for a walk. Except it ends up being ridiculously uphill - which, in hindsight, makes sense - and she thinks it’s sort of ridiculous that some people are wearing literal bikinis as if it’s warm enough for that at all. It’s by no means cold, and Allie took her sweater off when they were trudging up the fucking side of the mountain, but she thinks it’s kind of dumb for people to be stripping down. But whatever. They can do what they want and she can do what she wants.

She takes a photo because there’re all these little yellow wildflowers blowing in the wind. She sends it to her family, and then sends it to Harry. Why? Doesn’t know. She just likes knowing he’ll understand it.

He replies _’Pretty. Should get one of you.’_

She has Becca take it, thinks she looks bad in the first two, but then has her head sort of turned and isn’t paying attention to the next few because a bee buzzed past her and distracted her. Then she starts laughing. Becca takes like 10 in a row and Allie sort of loves the candids.

She sends her favourite one to her family first, again, and then Harry. He sends back the yellow flower emoji and she wants to know what he actually thinks.

Later, they ditch the party again after like, an hour of her pretending she doesn’t just want to be alone with him. He kisses her in the elevator up to her room, and then rests his weight on top of her on her bed, smiles at her and says, “I was thinking about this all day.”

… … …

He knows Becca’s not in her room because he just saw her downstairs with Sam, Grizz and Will. She’d said Allie was slow to get up this morning and he thinks he did a good job of not making it seem like he knew she’d stayed up too late kissing him. He also knows Allie doesn’t have plans today, because everyone else is going on a day trip to some caves, or something, and Becca said Allie doesn’t want to go. Which he knew, because she’d told him last night that confined spaces sort of creep her out.

So when he knocks on the door to Allie’s room and hears her let out a huff inside like she’s annoyed at the interruption of whatever it is she’s doing in there, he sort of laughs to himself and he’s smiling when she pulls the door open.

Allie’s standing there fully dressed, her hair wet from her shower, and a cute little scowl on her face.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says, softening, and then walks back into the room. Harry laughs and joins her, let’s the door close. There are clothes all over her bed, and she starts throwing them back into her suitcase.

“Are you pissed at something?”

She looks bothered he’s said it. “No? I thought it was Becca again trying to get me to go with them.”

Harry sits back against the pillows, watching her put things away. “They just left.” There’s a black bra on the bed when she picks up a shirt. It’s the one she was wearing last night. She wasn’t shy about it then, when he’d pushed her shirt up over her head. But she’s shy now. He doesn’t like that. “Hey.” She stops, looks over at him. “Come here.”

Even as she walks towards him, then gets onto the bed and sort of crawls in his direction (which...damn) she’s smiling, but she says, “You think I’ll just do what you say?”

He laughs a little, sets his hand on her arm when she’s close enough. “No,” he answers honestly, but then sort of pulls her so she’s on top of him, in what’s really very quickly becoming his favourite way to be with her. “You’re all distracted. What’s going on in your head?”

She pushes his hair off his head, then rests her weight on his thighs. “I just want a quiet day, you know?”

He nods. Then he thinks it’s fucked they haven’t kissed yet, so he sets his hand on the back of her neck, sits up a little so they’re closer, and presses his lips against hers.

“That’s kinda why I’m here,” he says, and then, before she can make some undoubtedly snarky comment about coming in here just to kiss her, or something; “You wanna go somewhere with me?”

Her eyes narrow. “Go where?”

“There’s trail riding at this ranch. Car leaves in 20 minutes.”

She gets this really pretty look on her face, and so yeah, that’s how he ends up spending the day riding horseback along these really kind of gorgeous trails next to her. She’s a little nervous, says she’s only been on a horse once that she can remember. She watches with interest and maybe fascination as he mounts easily, and he just tells her to stop staring.

She totally calls him on just wanting to show off his equestrian skills. Which is like, definitely true, but also he hasn’t ridden since his dad died and he’s sort of missed it, which he’s got fucked up feelings about that he doesn’t want to get into right now. But whatever. He just tells her to relax and remember the movements the guy just told them. They’re literally just moving slowly on this path and Harry’d be shocked if she needed to do anything other than just get the horse to stop.

She asks him to take her picture, so he does. He gets really fucking distracted, too, when she sort of glances over her shoulder at him. Then she laughs at him because she definitely noticed his reaction. He just says, “It’s really not my fault when you look that fucking good.”

Allie takes his picture, too, but he didn’t ask her to or really need it. He knows she’s been sending updates home. His mom texted yesterday asking him to remind her when he’s coming back, and that’s it. He doesn’t want to get into all that with Allie, either.

He helps her down when they get to this spot that’s got a little meadow with a small pond the guide told them was out here. Harry runs his left hand down the horse’s face as Allie holds onto his right. He ties them loosely to the post that’s here and then Allie’s putting her arms around him.

“This is very date-like. You should know.”

“I know,” he says, and then wonders if this is her way of saying she doesn’t like it or doesn’t want it. He knows he shouldn’t. But he also knows he really wanted to spend the day with her, and here they are. “That okay?”

She seems to think about it. “It just feels really soon after Kelly and Will for us to be like, going on dates.”

She doesn’t sound entirely sure of it, if he’s being honest. She’s also still holding onto his sides. And he knows she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be.

“But not too soon for us to half undress each other?” he asks all low, because yeah, he wants to remind her of last night and how much fun they had. God, he likes making out with her. Her cheeks turn a little pink. “No?”

“It feels different,” she says all soft, and Harry thinks there’s something she’s not saying. But then she looks up, meets his eyes, and says, really quietly, “I like you.”

God, you’d think such a simple fucking statement wouldn’t make him feel as good as it does, but here he is, with his heart racing a little, looking at this girl he thinks could honestly be too good for any of them. And like, Kelly used to say she loved him all the time but it never felt like this. Not even the first time. Because he thinks honestly he was always a little worried she just didn’t fucking mean it.

“I like you, too, Allie.”

(Yeah, she told him last night she really likes it when he says her name. He is absolutely using that to his advantage, here.)

“Wanna make out in a meadow until we have to go back?”

He laughs, his head tipping back, because that is fucking ridiculous, but also _yeah_ he does.

… … …

She knows what this looks like, and she gets why Kelly’s approaching her.

Allie’s literally wearing Harry’s black Centurions hoodie. And it’s not necessarily obvious that it’s his; it’s not like most of the people here don’t have school clothing. Allie has a grey sweater of her own, tucked away in her dresser drawer at home. And the only reason Allie has this on is because yesterday when they got back from their day riding horses, making out, and sort of half-assedly looking for four leaf clovers because he told her it was a thing he always did when he was really little, they’d gone to his room and opened the sliding door to let the air in. Harry’d taken her shirt off her, and then when they decided to pump the brakes - which is a thing they’re actually having to do a lot of - she told him she was cold and he passed her this sweater without hesitating. He was wearing it tonight, too, and when he was fixing her a drink, she told him she was cold again. He’d looked at her like he absolutely thought she just wanted to wear his clothes, but took his sweater off anyway and gave it to her. So she thinks maybe he wanted to see it, too.

But Kelly’s maybe clocked it, which makes sense. Allie’s filled with anxiety and this really unsettling thought that she’s definitely not the first girl to wear this article of clothing.

“Hey, Allie.”

Allie absolutely refuses to seek Harry out in the crowd and make sure he’s seeing this. She doesn’t need saving, or anything like that. Or maybe she’d be looking to make sure he’s _not_ seeing it. She thinks he’d be anxious about it. Like she is.

“Hey,” she says, smiling, and Kelly drinks from her stupid red cup.

“How’s Cassandra?”

“She’s good. I think what she’s getting from our parents is pretty much the worst thing about the situation,” Allie says, and Kelly nods.

This is awkward.

“Hey, um.” Kelly stops, takes a breath and then gives Allie a pretty smile. “I’ve noticed you and Harry are…” Allie, for some fucked up reason, really just wants Kelly to say it out loud. “This isn’t like, a warning, or something. I just…”

Allie waits, but runs out of patience. “You what?”

“I worry about him,” Kelly admits quietly. Allie can’t say she was expecting that, of all things, to come out of Kelly’s mouth. “He has a lot of shit going on at home. He’s like, _sad_ a lot.”

Okay, what is she supposed to say about that? And she also sort of thinks Harry would absolutely hate the fact that Kelly’s speaking for him, telling Allie things maybe she doesn’t have any business telling or he wouldn’t want people to know. But then, Allie thinks that Kelly _definitely_ knows him better than Allie does, herself, and this sounds really serious and like...Maybe if Kelly can’t be the one making sure he’s okay, she just wants someone else to do it. Which makes this feel like a bigger deal than it is. Like, she’s just making out with him and having some conversations. It’s not _serious_.

(If she keeps trying to convince herself it’s not a big deal, how she feels about him, she thinks she’s going to fuck everything up.)

“Why are you telling me this?” she asks, and Kelly gives a little smile.

“I know what it’s like with him. One minute it’s nothing and the next you’re lying to yourself about how much you like him.” Okay, is Kelly a fucking mindreader? Or is it just that neither of them are that unique, because Harry has a _way_ about him that just draws people to him? What the fuck is she talking about? “I just wanna make sure he’s okay.”

“It’s not like you two can’t still talk. Be friends.”

Kelly gives Allie a knowing look, this soft thing that’s full of more understanding that Allie would ever expect from the ex of the guy you’re sort of fooling around with. Not that Kelly _knows_ that for sure. It’s as yet unconfirmed.

Which Allie fully lets herself believe, until Kelly asks, “Like you’re friends?”

Yeah, she doesn't know what to say to that. The other day when they were talking, Kelly was basically talking about how nice it is to be free of the relationship, even though she still cares about him and thought she should be more heartbroken. And she’d told Allie and Cassandra that Harry’s achilles heel is that he actually cares a lot. Too much, about some things. And that he has this really amazing way of making you feel like you’re special.

She settles on, “We are friends,” and it’s unconvincing, either because she knows that’s not _all_ they are, despite her best effort to make herself believe it, or because she isn’t really ready to fully let herself think they won’t just go back to normal once they’re home.

Kelly sips her drink, gives a little smile, and says, gently, “Nice sweater,” like that just proves her own point and Allie can't argue.

And Kelly must be right, because Allie’s got nothing.

She sees him, then, in her line of sight. They’d sort of joked that they’d come to the party for a little and then give each other the signal and sneak off somewhere. She thinks this, whatever is happening, has thrown a wrench in that plan. He looks scared, honestly. Nervous. And Allie’s worried that if Kelly can tell what’s going on between them, other people can, too. She’s trying to sort out why she feels like that matters. (Really, she doesn’t think it does. She just thinks she _should_ be bothered by it.)

“Come play Never Have I Ever,” Kelly says, reaching for Allie’s wrist.

She hates this game, and she doesn’t want to play. But she sits there and hangs near the back. Becca’s playing, sitting next to Kelly and laughing. They keep bumping shoulders and talking quietly to each other. Allie’s never really seen them together before and wonders when they started this friendship, or whatever.

But god, it could’ve been on this trip and she’s just been too busy making out alone in rooms with Harry to notice. She doesn’t feel badly about that.

After a while, Becca says, giggling, “Never have I ever had a crush on Harry Bingham,” and Allie feels her blood run cold for a solid five seconds until she realizes literally everyone in the circle is drinking. Then she just laughs and takes a sip and ignores the way both Becca and Kelly watch her do it.

When her cup is empty and she either wants to stop drinking completely, or have like four more, Harry comes over, leans down despite the fact that there are a lot of witnesses here, including his ex-girlfriend. He says, “Come with me?” into her ear, and she gets up and follows, pushes her hair behind her ear and ignores the ridiculously attractive grin on his face.

She doesn’t know where they’re going, but she goes. She’s thinking way too hard about what Kelly said, and everyone crushing on him, and his sweater that lowkey smells like him, and the look on his face, and the way he touches her hip with his hand to nudge her towards the drinks table and she wants _more_.

He pours some tequila into her cup, and when he reaches for the cranberry juice, she takes the cup, drinks the alcohol fast and sets the cup back down again. Harry laughs a little, looks at her with his brows up and leans away a little like he’s asking what that’s about without actually saying the words.

She just stares back, and then something changes. It’s like he realizes something’s up with her, that something’s happened, and then she sees the exact moment he figures out it must’ve had something to do with Kelly. His eyes go a little cold, and he sighs, and Allie thinks it’s really fucking dumb of them to ignore this. Not that she’s really trying, she just…

She sort of liked their little bubble, where they could pretend no one had noticed anything, and enjoy kissing one another, telling one another they were attracted, sneak away to quiet rooms and hallways and yesterday, just once, in the stairwell. She isn’t sure she _wants_ to like him like she does. What a pain in the ass this is.

So, yeah, maybe she _is_ trying to ignore it. She pours more tequila into her cup, lets him add cranberry juice, and then hopes she looks kind of hot when she asks, “So where are you taking me?”

It must work at least a little, because the cold look is gone and then he’s smirking at her like he really wants to say something hot. She wants him to.

“I mean, I know exactly where I want you,” he says, and god, he’s _so_ bold, and she doesn’t know if he’s all talk or not, but she doesn’t care. It makes her feel warm all over, makes her want him, makes her wonder if they should just start kissing and not _stop_.

And the way he looks at her now lets her know that he can absolutely tell that this, or something like it, is exactly what she’s thinking.

She takes his hand, not really caring at all if anyone sees them at this point, and leads him around the side of the building, to that little wooded area from literally the second night here, when she kissed him the first time and he kissed her back.

In the dark with him in front of her, his hands on her hips, even though one of them’s holding his cup, and her arms over his shoulders even though she’s holding her own drink...God, the look he’s giving her is like he thinks she’s kind of amazing.

“You good?” he asks, and Allie smiles, nods. He’s asked her this so many times on this trip. She likes it. She likes the way he sounds like he really wants to know, wants to check in. “You sure?”

“I’m so good.” He grins, reaches up to slide his thumb along her jaw, his hand coming to rest on her neck and god, she thinks the way he touches her could make her do anything. “I just want to kiss you.”

The way he says, “Is that all?” is...it’s not his normal flirtation.

It’s not how he’s been responding the last few days when she says things like this. All cocky and obnoxious and making her either laugh or grab him. Sometimes both. No, this is different. It’s like he sort of wants to confirm that all she’s after is this physical thing. Like it maybe bothers him if that’s the truth. Like maybe he figures Kelly told her something heavy and he wants to know if it’s scared her off from anything more.

“No,” Allie says, and then closes her eyes tight and pulls one arm back, pushes her hand into her hair. He’s just watching her when she opens her eyes. “I’m all in my head.” He lets out a breathy laugh but doesn’t interrupt her. She almost wishes he would. “I like you, and it feels insane. Like, I should just be able to make out with a hot guy and not catch feelings. But fuck me, I guess.”

Harry blinks slowly, but he’s smirking, too, like he’s amused by her little tirade. She shouldn’t have said all that. God, what if all _he_ wants is someone to hook up with?

She’s being an idiot. She’s only been close to him a week and knows already that’s not his style. Not really. That he meant it, anyway, when he said he likes her. She has no reason not to believe him.

When his hand slips up under her sweater, she thinks it’s kind of crazy that she can tell this is meant to be like, an intimate gesture, and not just him wanting to touch her skin because he’s a horny teenage boy.

He’s just not _saying_ anything.

“Kelly basically gave me permission, or something, and wants to know people care about you, because…” He’s looking at her like he wants to hide. She doesn’t want that. “Did she ever wear this sweater?”

Oh _god_ , she didn’t mean to say _that_.

He squints at her like he’s just trying to keep up. Which makes sense. She wishes she could blame being drunk, but she definitely can’t. She’s had two drinks, including that shot back there. She’s _fine_. She’s just making a fool of herself.

“No,” he says, laughing softly. “What the fuck?”

Allie takes a deep breath. “Maybe I just need a distraction.” Yes, she’s talking about just getting on with the kissing she thinks he actually pulled her away from the crowd to do. He tilts his head like he knows that’s not going to help, or something. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Honestly, Allie, I…” He sighs, and god, she just wants him to say something that puts them back on even terrain. It’s stupid, but she’s just said all that shit and now feels like he has the upper hand, even though that is definitely not a thing she should be thinking about. “I’m _fine_ with how I feel about you. I gave up trying to fight it yesterday.”

Allie looks up at him, wanting to know more. “What happened yesterday?”

He grins, flicks her hair with his fingers and doesn’t look at her eyes. “Took you on a date I didn’t want to end.”

“Harry,” shey sort of whines. Could he be serious? She also knows her reaction here is absolutely...She’s shown her whole hand. There’s nothing left to hide.

“I mean it,” he says, voice all soft. He glances at her lips just once, but she thinks he won’t actually kiss her when they’re having this conversation, which she appreciates. “I like the way I feel when I’m with you.”

She should push back on that, but she isn’t going to. Because that’s how she feels, too, he just said it way more eloquently than she did, and with a calm that really does make her think he’s had this on his mind since yesterday and came to this conclusion before this very minute, unlike her. Is it surprising that he got there before her? Sure. But does it really matter? No.

So she just asks, “How’s that?”

“Good,” he says quietly, and Allie thinks back to what Kelly said, and what Harry’s told her, himself, about his relationship and his life and she thinks maybe even just _good_ is such a vast improvement that it makes her both happy that she’s the one who can make him feel this way, and sad for him that this is his starting point.

Allie puts both arms around his shoulders, hugs him, and he leans into it, sort of presses his face down against her shoulder a little. Allie lets her eyes close, lets herself hold him longer than she would’ve if they’d done this earlier. She doesn’t know how to do this; she’s never been in any kind of relationship. But she thinks maybe a positive step will be not freaking out every time she has half a feeling.

“Sorry I’m kind of wild,” she says, pulling away from him. He plays with her hair again, smiles.

“Nah. That’s kind of what I like about you.”

Allie definitely thinks it’s not just one thing he likes, but she lets it slide anyway.

She licks her bottom lip, likes the way he’s still all close. “Where were you going to take me?”

His grin is wicked, but she definitely doesn’t expect him to say, “Definitely into the woods to freak out about how crazy you are about me.”

She shoves him harder than she should, and he’s laughing when she turns on her heel to start walking away, and laughing still when he slips his arm around her middle and pulls her to him and says something really hot into her ear about taking her anywhere she wants to go.

(They end up in her room, him between her thighs and then kissing her stomach when he pushes the sweater up, and god, she wants so much more from him, too, but she’s scared. He doesn’t push her. When he drops the sweater beside them on the bed, he tells her her hair’s all messy like it isn’t his fault. She just hooks her feet around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer, and the sound he makes lets her know he’s easily as into this as she is. She wonders when she’ll stop needing and wanting those reminders.)

… … …

He reluctantly left her room last night at like 2:30, when she got a text from Becca telling her to make sure she wasn’t naked because Becca was coming back up. Harry thinks it’s kind of hilarious. Allie’s cheeks had turned pink and she told him to stop laughing. But also, she wasn’t wearing her shirt or bra and he didn’t have a shirt on, either, so.

He’d kissed her forehead and told her goodnight, and then went back to his own room and thought way too fucking hard about the look on her face and the way she arched up against his mouth on her chest and that she _likes him_.

He’s fucking exhausted, and he isn’t mad about it. A bunch of people are going on a big group hike today, but he knows Allie’s not going and he isn’t, either.

Then she messages him, asking if he’s up, asking if he’ll bring her ‘rations’ so she doesn’t have to get out of bed. Honestly, he’s in need of coffee anyway, so he heads to the dining hall and loads up a plate with food, coffee and tea, and sweet talks one of the women who works in there into giving him a tray. Then he asks if there’s any bacon left and she says there isn’t, but then comes back minutes later with four strips on a plate, along with some buttered toast and calls him sweetheart and tells him to have a good day.

Allie’s got the door propped open when he gets to her room. She’s definitely still in bed, but she looks like she’s showered - her hair’s still a little wet - and she’s dressed. The television is on and he smells coffee in here, too. He thinks she gets how much he loves it, even if she’d told him the other day she doesn’t drink a lot of it because her mom doesn’t let her.

She tells him to close the door all the way, then he sets the tray down on the bed and she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down for a kiss. He’s into it. He’s wearing just a white long sleeved shirt and joggers, because he figures this is like, pretty much exactly what they’re going to do most of the day.

Allie says, “Lookin’ good,” and she’s teasing, which he likes, but like…

He grins and shakes his head at her dumb joke. “I dressed up just for you.”

Yeah, seeing her eyes do that thing they do when clearly she wants him is not a thing he thinks will ever get old.

When she pulls back the covers so he can get into bed - which, he’s realizing, is a first for them and he tries not to think too hard about - he sees she’s wearing those little black shorts again with her grey tee shirt. God, she looks so good. He kisses her as she covers them back up, feels her smiling against his mouth and then she lets out this little moan when he takes her lip between his teeth, which is sort of exactly what he was expecting.

They watch some real estate show she says she and Cassandra like to watch when they’re bored, and they eat what he brought and Allie looks super fucking cute with her mug of tea cradled in two hands like that. She calls him out on staring, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t genuinely think she does, either.

When the show switches from this thing she likes to something she doesn’t, she gets up and Harry watches. Mostly because he likes the way her body looks in her clothes. In general. Whatever. She moves the tray off the bed, switches off the television, and pulls the heavy curtains closed across the sliding door. It makes the room darker, and then she’s getting back into bed and telling him to scoot down so she can use him as a pillow.

When she curls all up against him, sort of honestly half on top of him, she lets out this long breath like she’s really comfortable. He is, too. He sort of honestly loves cuddling. Like, a lot. He likes being close with people. Likes when people want to be close to him. Likes the comfort. Before he left on this trip he ordered himself a really expensive weighted blanket and he kind of can’t wait for it to arrive. It should be there when he gets back.

Allie all in his space like this, her breathing getting all soft and slow as she falls asleep, probably honestly beats any artificial comfort. For some reason, he’s tempted to turn his head and press his lips against her temple. She hums, presses her fingers into his side.

He knows this is absolutely a fucked up way to interact with a girl he was supposed to just like, have a fun time with on this trip. He didn’t expect to like her as much as he does. He didn’t expect to want to get to know her more.

Whatever. He decides to just go with it and not overthink it. He thinks he decided that days ago. He closes his eyes, and doesn’t open them again until Allie’s waking next to him and sort of rubbing her cheek against him, saying she doesn’t want to get up yet.

It’s after 3pm when they’re finally both awake. Allie’s still leaning on him, kissing him sometimes, but they’re just talking. She’s telling him about her best subjects and where she might want to go to college. She says, “Anywhere but fucking Connecticut,” and he laughs because he _gets it_. He’s off to Boston in the fall, and Allie rolls her eyes and asks him why he doesn’t just say Harvard, and tells him without a doubt that it’s way more pretentious to say ‘Boston’ or ‘Cambridge’ instead of just naming the school. She tells him she visited Northeastern and Boston University with her dad over winter break. That her dad’s actually from Massachusetts and went to Northeastern, too.

“Sometimes I forget you’re smart,” she says, and he laughs and tilts his head to look at her, brow raised. “I just mean you’re also popular and hot and funny.”

He laughs, because like, that’s sort of ridiculous. “And I can’t be smart, too?”

“No,” she says, defiant, and he sort of wants to kiss the tip of her nose, but doesn’t. “It’s not allowed.”

“Okay,” he says, grinning, and then, “I’m not that popular, so we can swap one for the other.”

“Okay,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. Harry pushes her hair off her forehead and gets quiet, and then Allie’s just looking at him like maybe she’s only just realized he’s serious. “Everyone likes you.”

He doesn’t mean to scoff. “Everyone wants to act like they like me because they think it gets them somewhere.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Shit. He didn’t mean to whisper that. Allie’s watching him. “I don’t have a lot of people close to me. And it’s not because I’m a jerk.”

She smiles a little, brushes her thumb against his jaw, which he really likes. “I think the thing is, Harry, you’re not a jerk at all.”

He can’t express how much he likes that she gets that. That she sees it. That she knows it’s true. He also knows for a fact that she wouldn't be here with him - wouldn’t probably want to be around him at all - if he was actually as much of an asshole as people want to think he is.

“I don’t think so, either,” he admits, and he can’t look at her face when he adds, “But it’s the kind of thing you start believing if you hear it enough.”

Allie’s moving, then, putting her full weight on him, her body on top of his and all lined up. There’s something like worry on her face, or maybe it’s care. He really wants to know what the fuck Kelly said to her last night at the bonfire, honestly. There’s no way they didn’t talk about something serious. He knows how Kelly looks when she’s worried.

“You know I said my dad calls me sunshine?” she asks, and there’s this little smile on her face he thinks is actually maybe the saddest thing he’s seen on her. And he’s seen her crying. So that’s sort of fucking him up. “Wanna know what they call Cassandra?”

Shit.

“What?”

“Literally everything else,” she tells him, and he’s confused. Really confused. “Sweetie, honey, princess, love. I heard mom call her the north star once. And when Cassandra got into Yale mom told our neighbour Cass is her pride and joy.”

He says the first thing that comes to mind, which is, “That’s so fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Allie agrees, and he thinks - he’s getting the impression, anyway - that she doesn’t really talk to anyone else about this and maybe never has. “It’s hard not to internalize that, too.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that, but he knows she’s right, and he thinks they’ve both got shit they don’t tell other people, and he leans up and kisses her, makes a quiet comment about how good she feels like this, too. He’s not doing it to change the subject. He just thought it and wanted to tell her.

At dinner, they learn that Campbell was apprehended by park rangers for something to do with a squirrel that sounds fucking terrifying and also incredibly messed up. Sam looks cagey and weird about it, but Harry doesn’t call him on it because it feels like it’s not his place. There’s mention of a massive fine and a lifetime ban from national parks, and also he’s got to go home. Allie, Becca, Will and Sam go to Sam and Will’s room to talk about it.

Sam invites him. Allie squeezes his hand when no one’s looking.

He kisses her goodnight in front of her room, after the five of them and Grizz have spent the evening watching shitty movies squished together on hotel beds.

Grizz is waiting by the elevator, one hand in his pocket, when Harry joins him to go back to their room.

“Interesting,” Grizz says, with a little grin on his face and his head tilted back to watch the digital display of floor numbers changing.

“Is it?” Harry asks, trying to downplay it. He doesn’t know why.

“Mhm. But Allie’s kind of awesome.”

And like, he fucking knows that.

“Yeah.”

The door opens and Grizz is laughing softly, shaking his head. Harry wants to know what that means but doesn’t feel like asking.

… … …

She’s the one who suggests the hike, and she can tell that he’s surprised when they meet downstairs in the morning, outside by the fire pit like she’d asked, and no one else shows up. Maybe she definitely made it seem like there’d be a group. Or, rather, she didn’t make it sound like it’d be just them.

He puts his arm around her loosely, casually, and presses his lips against her hair. “Want me all to yourself, hey?”

And like. Kind of. It’s their last day, and tonight there’s a massive party she isn’t sure she actually wants to go to, and tomorrow morning they’ll get back on buses to go home. So what if she wants to spend her last actually hours of sunlight in this place with him? It’s honestly how she’s spent so much of the rest of the trip, isn’t it?

They walk a half hour to the trailhead, and Harry tells her what Grizz said about her last night. He also asks what she thought about the movies they watched, and they make loose plans to watch some of her favourites. She’s never seen Rounders and she knows she says yes too easily when he asks her if she’ll watch it with him sometime. She just...she likes that they’re both intending to make this thing between them extend past the point of getting off the buses.

Two hours in, they’re at this really pretty spot with huge trees, forest greenery, and sunlight streaking through the leaves, when they pass another set of hikers. Allie smiles like you do in these situations, but then Harry pulls his hand from hers - she hadn’t even really realized they were holding hands, honestly.

“Excuse me,” he calls after them, and Allie is… He holds his phone out. “Would you mind?”

She rolls her eyes. The couple is about 30 if she had to guess and Allie feels young and foolish but also likes the look on Harry’s face as he walks back to her. Like he’s just unashamed to want photos of the two of them alone that don’t feature someone’s arm or shoulder, too.

The photos are good. They look good in them, his arm around her and her all tucked against his side. Harry says, “Thank you so much,” all charming and Allie thinks he’s sort of ridiculous. But the couple smiles at them and Allie gives a little wave, and then Harry kisses her quickly. He tells her she looks cute in her ‘little outfit’ and laughs when she shoves at his arm.

The spot they come to is easily the best view they’ve seen this whole time. They can see multiple mountain peaks, and there’s some kind of massive bird flying, and the trees look super green. The sky is cloudless and blue and Allie feels her eyes go wide at the sight of it, and tries to take it all in.

Harry’s hand slips into hers as they stand there, saying nothing, for at least three minutes. She hears him take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and when she looks over at him, his eyes are closed. She smiles just a little, to herself, wondering what’s going on in his head but also thinking he just looks kind of gorgeous.

She takes out her phone to get a photo, and sees that he’s messaged her. His eyes are still closed when she glances at him, and she wonders what he could have possibly said to her just a few minutes ago. When she opens it, it’s a photo of just her, from behind, with this beautiful landscape behind her and her hair all wavy down her back. She sort of loves it. She loves even more that he took it without saying anything, and that he sent it to her unprompted.

She asks, “What happens when we get home?” because she’s been trying to imagine them at school, _dating_ , or spending time at each others’ houses, or…

It’s just really easy to imagine, and she knows she’s going to feel like shit if he doesn’t think so, too.

“Well, it’ll be late, so probably we’ll go home and sleep,” he says, grinning, and she rolls her eyes. He knows that’s not what she meant. (Maybe it means something that he’s making a joke; like he’s just not thinking they’ll stop this, like it’s not on the table.) “Am I your fling, or something?”

She laughs, turns towards him and pushes her hair off her face. He watches her do it. God, he’s so hot without trying to be. It’s totally ego-driven, but she thinks he sort of looks hottest when he’s looking at her like he wants her.

“I really tried for that to be true,” she answers, and he lets out a loud laugh and then gives his soft look.

So when he says, “Tried hard for like, six hours, at least,” she thinks he means for it to be a joke, but it’s also just...kind of true. ”I’m pretty irresistible, huh?” She groans, and he puts both arms around her shoulders, pulls her to him. She likes it. Likes being against him this way, his body solid against hers. “I mean...have I been vague about what I want?”

She smiles, buries her face against him, and god, she hasn’t gotten butterflies over a guy since she was like, 14, but she has them now.

What he wants is _her_ , and it feels really, really good.

So she says, “No,” and he lets out this breathy laugh and then puts his hands on her face and pulls back. She sort of loves the way he touches her like this. It’s gentle, but it’s always sexy, always laced with something heated just under the surface.

“And what do you want, Allie?”

He knows. He’s just being a shit.

She isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer. She just puts her hands on his wrists, leans up on her toes to kiss him gently, and looks into his eyes when she pulls away. He seems to get the message. She also just really wants to stop doubting it, and she thinks he’d really like that, too.

On the way back, they’re being a little ridiculous. She steps up on rocks and he holds her hands or her hips like she needs help down and he doesn’t just like touching her. He keeps telling her to watch her step, and it’s absolutely only because she told him she doesn't need his help _walking_. He laughs but doesn’t comment when she catches a root with her toe and stumbles a little. He eats one of the protein bars they brought and she lets him walk along with chocolate on his lip for almost 10 minutes until she can’t stand it anymore and wipes it off with her thumb. He seems fully offended and she teases him for caring so much about his appearance.

He says, “Not all of us just wake up looking as fucking good as you do, Allie,” low into her ear, his shoulder pressed against hers as they walk, and she tries very hard to ignore it. She fails, stops, grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him towards her. Their bodies crash together a little roughly, which makes him laugh and look a little too pleased with himself. When he tries to kiss her, she leans away, but his hands slide up her back to keep her close, which is, of course, exactly what she wanted.

“What are we gonna do when you can’t just say random things like that any time you want?” she asks, teasing, and yeah, she’s definitely referring to the fact that her parents have pretty strict house rules regarding boys, and that school isn’t really a place she wants to have him say shit like that.

He grins and they continue walking. He reaches over and plays with the bottom of her shirt, which is absolutely unnecessary and sort of proving her point about this trip allowing them a lot of opportunity they won’t have in West Ham.

“I’m really good at texting,” he says, all rough, and she needs to ignore what that might mean. At least for now.

But then, without actually thinking about what she’s doing, she says, “I bet you are,” and Harry’s hand slips into the back pocket of her pants, and he laughs when she pushes him away.

God, they’re being idiots, and she is way more into it than she thought she’d be.

Her legs hurt when they get back, and it’s eerily quiet, like no one else is around even though she knows they should be. They are. It’s like everyone’s a little bummed to be going home and no one wants to talk about that or anything else. Allie realizes she’s vastly overthinking it; it’s still just her and Harry outside walking towards the lodge to go inside. Luke and Helena are swinging in a hammock between two trees. They both smile at her and Harry. Allie smiles back. Harry’s hand brushes hers and she wishes he’d just take it. It’s not that everyone knows there’s something going on, but a lot of people do. And that feels kind of fine. She feels less like she has to hide it now that it isn’t just kisses in the dark when they’re alone.

She wants a shower, and Harry definitely zones out a second, which is entirely too predictable and she rolls her eyes at him for. She’s honestly feeling a little weird about how much time she wants to spend with him - about how easy it is to want to be around him - so she tells him she’ll see him at dinner and he doesn’t seem to think that’s weird or she’s being distant, or whatever.

She lies on her bed after, in just her underwear, bra and a tee shirt. She sent her family one of the pictures of her from the hike, and she wonders what they’d think if they knew who’d taken it. It wasn’t the one he took and sent her. It was one she asked him to take, where she’s next to this massive tree with a little sign marking the trail nailed onto it and the bark’s overgrowing the sign. It was silly and she’s smiling and her cheeks are all red from the elevation gain. Harry’d told her it was a good one and asked if she was really going to be that picky when she looked that hot.

No one asks who she was with. They just tell her she looks pretty and happy and all outdoorsy. Allie’s sort of dying to tell Cassandra, but she knows the longer she leaves it before she gets home, the less she’ll have to have this conversation via text.

When Becca comes back - alone, thankfully, because Allie still hasn’t put pants on - she’s just looking through her photos from the trip on her phone.

Becca says, “Wow. I sort of assumed if I walked in on you half naked, you wouldn’t be alone.”

Allie rolls her eyes, but she’s blushing. “I’m taking some me time.” Becca raises her brow and drops her stuff, takes off her heavy sweater and lies down on her bed on her stomach so she’s facing Allie. “Good day?”

Becca shrugs. “Fine. Watching Will shoot his shot with Kelly is amusing and just like, so nearly pathetic.”

Honestly, it doesn’t even sting, and she likes, too, that Becca’s not worried about what Allie will think of the mention of Will. Like, clearly she’s got her own shit going on, you know? How is it that it feels like it’s been a month since he told her without actually having to have the guts to do it that he’s not interested?

“I’m kind of looking forward to going home,” Becca admits, and honestly, Allie can relate. “I just want like, normal, and my own bed. And to see my mom.”

“Me too,” Allie says. “And Cassandra.”

Becca rolls onto her back, her hair falling over the edge of the bed and almost hitting the floor. “Bet that’ll be a fun conversation.” Allie doesn’t ask _what_ conversation she’s referring to. “Her opinion of Harry is like, as low as it can get. Until, I guess, she realizes he’s dating her sister.” It makes Allie mad. Not at Becca. But at the fact that this is true. “But also he’s definitely not as much of an asshole as we all thought. She’ll come around.”

Becca sounds convinced of it, like it’s just a fact, or something. Allie likes that.

“Yeah. Maybe,” she says, too quietly. “Probably.”

Becca gets this grin on her face that looks really goofy from this perspective, when she’s sort of upside down.

“Before he’d even broken up with Kelly, he was saying something about you.”

“What?” she laughs.

Becca just says, “On the bus, we were talking about who the most surprising hookup would be. He said he wouldn’t be surprised if anyone wanted to hook up with you.”

Allie presses her lips together. Something about the fact that he had that thought before _this_ was even a thing or a thought or an option makes her feel really, _really_ good about it. About him. About her with him. Because it doesn’t feel like he’s just taking an opportunity that presented itself, or going with it because he likes kissing her. She’s not stupid, and she knows that whatever statement he made probably had something to do with her looks, too, but still. He said it to _Becca_ , which means he didn’t care if it got back to Allie or to anyone else. It also makes her think about the times he’s told her he’s seen her, noticed her. It makes her want to know more about what he thought of her before all this. That’s selfish and stupid, but it’s true.

“He’s too fucking charming, Becca.”

Becca just laughs until she has to wipe her eyes.

Allie wasn’t joking.

… … …

After watching Allie spend most of last night’s party trying to convince people to switch buses with her so she could sit with him, he’s definitely a little smug at how it plays out.

Basically, he reminds her (again, for like, the sixth time) that there’s literally no one stopping anyone from getting on whatever bus they want and sitting with whoever. Like, as long as they all make it home, it literally doesn’t fucking matter.

Allie sits next to him, and Kelly sits with Will. That’s how it goes down. Which, now that Harry thinks of it, would’ve been a good starting point. But whatever. It was sort of hilarious to watch her last night, a drink in her hand she nursed all night because she didn’t want to be hungover for the ride home. She was going person to person and trying to strike deals. She’s so fucking pretty and funny and so many people like her. He thinks that it’s easier to notice that, to notice her, when Cassandra isn’t around. But he feels randomly sort of sick just thinking that. Like literally sick. Like his stomach hurts. So he kicks the thought aside and convinces himself maybe Allie’s just always like this and he hasn’t noticed.

(But he would’ve noticed. Definitely.)

Anyway, she’s sitting next to him, already worried about getting bored on the drive, and she asks him to borrow his flannel because she’s cold. She puts it on over her shoulders and he thinks she’s totally just teasing him about this particular article of clothing, but whatever. It looks fucking good on her, so he doesn’t complain.

They’re moving down the highway and he’s reading and she has a book open, too, but her eyes are fixed on the back of the seat ahead of her. He counts to 10 before he nudges her with his elbow.

“You good?”

She smiles, just a little, but then it fades and she furrows her brow. “I have this really sick feeling.”

He regards her carefully. “Like motion sickness?”

“No. No, like…” She stops, turns her head fully and...yeah, he can see that she’s actually really worried about something. “Like this feeling of dread?”

He lets out a small laugh, humourless. “That’s comforting.”

“Just like something really bad is going to happen.”

He blinks. “Does this happen often?”

She shakes her head, then puts her hand on his thigh. He wants to comfort her, even if he doesn't know what the fuck she’s actually talking about. “Literally never.” She sucks in a breath, and he sets his hand over hers, curls his fingers under her palm. She forces a smile; he watches her do it. “Probably just wanting the drive to be over.”

He thinks of the feeling he had earlier thinking about Cassandra and it sounds similar. But instead of telling her that - because how could he word it that doesn’t make him sound awful? - he just smiles back, knows she can tell he doesn’t mean his, either.

“Sure. Probably.” Then, because he thinks he needs to distract her or she’ll literally think about this the whole time, he leans over and lets his lips brush her ear. He really likes that she takes in a little breath. He really likes that he knew she would. “Could kiss and pass the time.”

She laughs, pushes at him with her shoulder and opens her book again. “Nice try.”

He shrugs, grinning, and squeezes her hand before letting go. “Worth a shot.”

He’s sort of surprised when, after they stop for lunch, as soon as they’re pulling onto the highway, Allie puts her head on his shoulder, yawns once, and closes her eyes. She’d told him she can’t sleep in cars or drives. She definitely seems set to close her eyes and use him as a pillow again. He doesn’t mind, obviously. And when she falls asleep, her hand is on his inner thigh and his arm’s around her and he closes his eyes, too. It’s definitely gonna mess up his sleep pattern again, but there’s literally fuck all else to do, so it’s fine.

They sleep a while, and then when he wakes up, Allie’s watching something on YouTube on her phone with her earbuds in. He stretches his neck and she takes out her left earbud, hands it to him. She’s watching a documentary about Victorian medicine, or something, which is a weird choice but he doesn’t care. He just settles in next to her and listens to this British historian talking about barber surgeons and using ground up earth worms to ‘heal’ bruises. Allie makes a gagging sound at one point, then laughs when he looks over at her. He leans his head on hers and when the video is done, tells him it’s his turn to pick something.

She falls asleep when he puts on this show about a vet in the Yukon. It’s good, and he thinks she likes it, she’s just tired. He sort of loves this shit. Maybe ‘cause it ties him, in some weird way, to his dad. They went elk hunting in Alaska when Harry was 15.

She wakes up just as they’re about to enter town, takes her phone and he watches her type a message to her sister.

It reads, _’I’m dating Harry.’_

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to see, but she’s not hiding her phone, either.

Cassandra writes back _’Allie’_ as one message and then _’Are you freaking kidding me?’_ as another.

Allie lets out a sigh but doesn’t respond, and he leans over and kisses her cheek, because like, honestly, he wants to keep doing this despite what her fucking sister says, okay? She’ll get over it. And he thinks that what he’s learned about Allie this past week is that even if Cassandra has an issue with it, Allie’ll still do exactly whatever she wants.

She shivers when they pass the _Now Entering West Ham_ sign. Harry leans his shoulder against hers and asks if she’s cold. She shakes her head and says she’s nervous and anxious and the sick feeling is back.

“Is it about Cassandra?” he asks, and he’s being quiet not because he’s got a bad feeling about that, too, but because this feels like a conversation they don’t probably want to have on a packed bus. Most people are asleep but not everyone is.

“It must be,” she says, but it’s not convincing in the slightest. Then she looks in his eyes and asks, “Right?”

He doesn’t know what the fuck to say to that. “Sure.”

She looks past him, out the window, and he realizes they’re passing her house. All the lights are off. It’s only 8:00 at night, and literally a few minutes ago she was talking to Cassandra. She meets his eyes again and he doesn’t know what the hell she’s trying to communicate.

Then he notices that all the lights are off in all the houses.

“You feel it too?” she asks, and he isn’t sure what she’s actually saying, but yeah, he wouldn’t call it dread, but it’s something else eerie. So he nods. Allie puts her hand into his and takes three deep breaths. Harry strokes his thumb against her knuckle slowly over and over.

When the buses are pulling away and peoples’ parents aren’t around, Harry understands what she was feeling earlier. Like, he can’t relate because there’s no way his mom’d come and greet him off the bus, but he knows it’s fucking weird that out of 200-some teenagers, there’s not a single parent around. There’re also no cars on the road, no people out...Yeah, the town’s sleepy, but it’s not _dead_.

The eerie feeling settles into something a little more dire.

“I’ll drive you home,” he tells her, because he really doesn’t see any other option. She just nods. She’s looking around, observing everyone. He thinks it’s a thing she’s good at. He wonders how he never really noticed that about her before.

She won’t let him carry her bag. She’s kind of teasing him about not needing some guy to do things for her when Will approaches and asks, gently, if he can crash at her place. Like he’s not sure what Harry’ll say. As if Harry’s entitled to an opinion on it, or something, which he’s obviously not.

“Yeah, of course,” she answers, and doesn’t bother looking at Harry. Which he kind of likes. “Harry’s taking me.”

Will nods. “Thanks.”

As they’re driving away, Allie’s sitting shotgun and leaning her elbow on the console, her head on a bit of a swivel as she watches people walking home on empty streets.

Harry’s heart beats hard in his chest when the feeling of everything being _really not right_ settles in and won’t go away.

The lights are still off when he pulls into the driveway. There’s no fucking way he’s letting them go in there alone, so he cuts the engine and gets out, too. Allie’s key slips into the door and Harry takes a steadying breath, he and WIll catching one anothers’ eyes before she pushes it open. He doesn’t know what they were just trying to communicate, but fuck. Maybe they both just want to make sure she’s okay. Harry’s not feeling weird at all about leaving her here with Will. He’s not a jealous asshole.

He is feeling weird about leaving her here if her parents and Cassandra aren’t around.

She calls out for them, and Will walks into the kitchen like he’s been here a million times before. Comfortable. Harry’s just standing in the foyer. He’s been here once. He and Cassandra had been paired together for a project freshman year and she’d insisted they work on it outside school hours, outside the library. They’d gotten 98%.

Allie looks close to tears when she comes back downstairs with her phone to her ear.

“No one’s here. No one’s answering. Texts aren’t going through,” she says. Will comes back, and Harry realizes he’d gone to the garage when he updates them that both cars are here.

Harry puts an arm around her. What the _fuck_ is going on? “We’ll go to mine,” he says, and then pulls out his phone, tries to call his mom. Straight to voicemail. He calls the house phone, but it just rings and rings. He glances at Will, says, “Come on,” way more easily than he’s ever actually said anything to the guy.

He’s not just gonna leave Will here. That makes no sense, and he also knows Allie wouldn’t allow it. And he’s not that fucking callous.

She shows him her phone when he’s stopped at a stop sign he realizes too late there’s no point stopping for.

It’s Becca, saying no one’s at her place either. Kelly’s calling him, and he answers because he’s getting the sense there’re no cops around to bust him for distracted driving. He just wants to get home and confirm it. Fuck. His _sister_. Kelly tells him she’s alone, too.

Harry has a wild thought. It’s absolutely stupid. Allie says his name too loudly when he pulls a pretty fucking dangerous U turn and presses his foot down on the gas a little harder. He’s definitely not driving towards his house. He wonders if either of them knows that, or even knows where he actually lives. Shit, they can probably assume what neighbourhood he’s in, even if they’ve never been there.

He’s thinking of stupid stuff to distract himself from whatever it is that’s happening. He presses on the brake hard when they make it to the edge of town, the road they literally just came in on like, 20 minutes ago. Allie gasps and grabs at his shoulder hard enough that it almost hurts, and Will’s whispering, “What the fuck?” from the back seat.

Harry goes to get out, but Allie won’t let go of him, her eyes all frantic when she says, “Don’t.”

He feels like he might not be able to breathe. He puts both hands on the wheel and holds on tight, takes a few deep breaths before putting the car back in drive. He drives slower towards his house. Allie says something about how they should check all the exists, but he doesn’t want to right now, and he doesn’t think it makes a fucking difference, anyway. There’s no reasonable explanation for what they just saw. If it turns out they can leave another way, that doesn’t make any of this less fucking _weird_.

He pulls the car into his garage, and all the other cars are there, too. Just like at Allie’s house. He pulls their bags from the trunk and Allie’s on her phone again, like she thinks something might be different if she tries again. It sort of pisses him off. No, it just...He doesn’t get it. He thinks it’s pointless and silly. But he gets why she’s doing it. It’s just scaring the shit out of him.

His house is quiet, which isn’t weird. He heads for the stairs, looks over his shoulder as he puts his hand on the banister. “Look around. Do whatever.”

Allie follows him.

His left hand is being held in both hers when they get to the door to his sister’s bedroom, all purples and pinks. She’d be in bed if she were here. Allie’s quiet when he catches her eye. They check his mom’s room, and then he goes into his own.

Honestly, he knew no one would be here before they even arrived, but seeing how empty it is is still fucking him up.

Allie puts her arms around him, over his shoulders so she’s up on her toes and all pressed up against him. He doesn’t realize she’s crying until he feels a tear fall onto his shirt and seep through the fabric. He’s only just realized she’s still wearing his flannel. It looks sort of huge on her and he, distantly, registers that it’s hot, but he’s distracted by other things and can’t really appreciate it.

She says, “I’m scared,” in this really small voice he’s definitely never heard. He just nods, closes his eyes and tries to breathe. And because he just needs to feel something _good_ , he pulls away, looks at her and presses his lips against hers. She kisses him back, then breathes in and out when he leans his forehead against hers. “We should find Will.”

He nods, but he won’t be the first one to move.

Will’s standing in the kitchen when they go downstairs. He seems almost relieved to see them. Happy they didn’t disappear, too.

“Sam and Grizz, same thing,” he says, apparently realizing that Harry’s house is empty even though he hadn’t gone upstairs and probably didn’t look in every room on the ground floor. Harry just nods. Allie looks like she’s thinking too hard.

“We should get everyone together.”

“Tonight?” Harry asks her, and Will looks similarly skeptical.

She just shrugs. “Lots of people are probably alone. We should...We should comfort people. Try to figure things out.”

“Things?” he scoffs, which is...unfair and not helpful. She pins him with a look that tells him she thinks the same. “You’re just gonna get everyone together and they’ll all freak out as a group.”

“Like a riot?” Will asks, and Harry gives him a look. That’s not what he meant, and he thinks it’s fucking dumb to make exaggerations.

“I don’t fucking know, okay, but if we get everyone together and have nothing to say - which we don’t - then it’s just gonna make things worse. We should just sleep on it.”

Allie laughs humourlessly, crosses her arms. He doesn't like that she’s looking at him this way. Like, for all the talking they’ve done, they haven’t _argued_ a ton. Not on anything that matters. Not on anything serious, other than goofy banter about like, their favourite Skittles flavour and dumb shit like that.

Her shoulders draw back a little, but her chin stays low, like she’s not sure how he’ll react, when she says, “I disagree with you.”

It’s absolutely the wrong time to think she’s hot, but he does. It’s true. And he knows he smirks a little, but she doesn’t react, really. She doesn’t stop looking at him.

“What’re you gonna say?” he asks, sighing. Allie pulls her phone out again, starts messaging people.

“People need to know they’re not alone. If it’s happening to all of us. Maybe someone knows something, too. We just...can’t _not_ talk to each other.”

Okay, so that makes sense. Maybe. He still thinks it’s gonna be a mess and people are gonna ask a ton of fucking questions they legitimately can’t possibly have answers for. But he doesn’t have it in him to fight about it, and maybe it makes sense that everyone update everyone else.

While she makes a bunch of group chats and asks him to do the same, he tells Will to go upstairs and take either of the spare guest bedrooms. Harry’s got a feeling this isn’t going to be temporary, but he really doesn’t know why he thinks that’s the truth. Maybe it’s that at least one of the roads out of this hellhole of a town is...no longer a road out.

He braces his hands on the counter, then pushes himself up onto one of the stools. Allie’s busy texting when he starts losing his breath, but she notices quickly and pours him a glass of tap water, pushes it into his hand. She’s right there next to him, her hand pressing between his shoulder blades and her hair falling down by her face with the way she’s got her head bent, watching him. When he feels more calm, he looks at her, and she tells him it’ll be okay.

For some reason, he almost believes her. God, he thinks she could make him believe anything if she sounded that determined about it.

He drives them to the church. Allie asks if he’s okay to drive or if he wants WIll to, and he gives her a look as if to ask if she’s lost her damn mind. There’s no way he’s letting Will drive one of his cars.

As he predicted, everyone’s scared and confused and wants to know what the fuck’s going on and what they should do. Allie suggests people bunk up together so no one’s on their own. She has anyone who’s by themselves and hasn’t already formed groups to raise their hands, and watches people pair off in duos or trios. Grizz asks Harry if he can crash, and Harry nods, not minding at all and actually is a little thankful it won’t just be him, Allie and Will. Because that’s a little fucked. And it’s not like he doesn’t have the extra room. Becca and Sam are going to stay at his, and that girl Elle’s almost whispering when she asks them if she’d be able to stay with them. Everyone else pairs off pretty naturally. Kelly’s fielding offers and Harry scoffs, knowing she’ll have her pick and is probably trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Allie sits at the front of the church on the steps as everyone’s leaving. Helena’s there, too, leaning against the pulpit with her arms crossed, Luke off to the side. Harry’s sitting in one of the front pews. Will and Grizz are nearby.

“Some good model UN governing on display there, Allie,” Helena says, a little smile on her face. Allie laughs, but Harry can tell she’s just being polite. He really wants to take her home. He wants to talk to her alone. He honestly wants to make sure she’s okay.

Suddenly, he wishes he didn’t have to share his house at all with anyone who isn’t her. He doesn’t want roommates. He can’t take it back and he knows it’d make him an asshole to express it, but that’s how he feels. He doesn’t like sharing.

Allie hasn’t responded. Harry leans forward, elbows on his knees, and says, “Hey.” She looks at him like maybe she needs to be brought back out of her own head, or whatever. “You good?”

She smiles at him wider than he’d expected, nods, and stands. “We should come back here tomorrow. Check on everyone. For now we should all try to get some sleep.” She stands, his shirt hanging down past her hips. She catches his eye. “And change clothes.”

In front of everyone, not feeling like he has anything to hide, he sits back against the pew, rests his elbow on it, and grins at her. “Not necessarily.”

Helena laughs quietly, moves away from the pulpit and catches Luke’s eye. He walks over and takes her hand, tells them to have a good night.

Allie walks past him, pushes her hand into his hair just to be a pest and mess it up, and then heads for the door.

Harry follows her. Will and Grizz follow him. In the car, she’s talking about some things she thinks they should do tomorrow. He doesn’t know if they all agree just because she sounds so sure of it, or if it’s genuinely because she’s saying what’s right. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

… … …

Allie wakes up without an alarm, something feeling off before she even opens her eyes and remembers she’s not in her own room. She doesn’t think it’s just the jolt of recognition that this is unfamiliar, that this room isn’t one she’s ever been in. No, she thinks it’s that, and remembering this place they’re in, and that they’re all alone. And then, too, she thinks these sheets smell like different detergent, and they’re dark, and Harry must have blackout blinds, because…

She turns her head gently, careful not to move too much or too quickly. Save for a nap together a few days ago, she’s never slept with a guy before. Slept as in _slept_. Though she hasn’t done the other thing, either. Harry’s across the bed, not touching her, even though his face is turned towards her, his lashes fanned out in his sleep and his hair a little wild the way she sort of likes it. She rolls onto her back and then tugs her shirt up to cover her shoulder again. Well, the shirt she’s wearing. She’d gone into the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth and change into pajamas. What she did instead is just undress down to her yellow underwear, pull his flannel back on and button it up most of the way. The way he’d looked at her when she walked back out and got into bed made her feel warm all over. She remembers falling asleep all pressed together. She wonders when in the night they separated.

She finds his hand under the covers, presses her fingers between his and listens to his breathing change. He lets out this little sound, but doesn’t wake up. She doesn’t mind. She pulls her phone out from under the pillow where she’d tucked it last night. She has 14 new messages and a mild panic sets in that something’s happened. But they’re just updates from people. Nothing has changed, really. Becca and Sam decided to get drunk last night, which almost makes her laugh. Almost makes her jealous. She’d just come back here and the four of them had stayed up too late trying to plan. Harry had been really quiet, for the most part, just chiming in to agree or offer a few suggestions. She thinks he just wanted to go to bed. She’s glad he stayed up a little later.

Just like last night, she can’t connect to any social media, and the messages she sent her parents and Cassandra last night haven’t sent. Her Spotify shows an error and YouTube comes up blank. She’s not surprised. It’s not surprising. She was hoping for a miracle.

Harry lets out a soft sound and turns a bit towards her, and when she looks over, he’s got this really sort of beautiful look on his face like he’s trying to revel a little in waking up with her. She puts her phone down, pushes it back under the pillow.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” he echoes, then blinks heavily and she can see his bare shoulder peeking out under the duvet. “You look so hot.”

She laughs softly, turns on her side so they’re facing each other. She lets go of his hand, but his finds her hip, pushes the shirt up and sits against her underwear. “Really? You think I’m hot in your bed, in your shirt.” He grins. God, guys are so easy. “I’m shocked.”

He moves towards her, but kind of pulls at the same time, til they’re all pressed together and one of her legs is between his, one of his between hers. She’s sort of worried about her breath, honestly. Harry reaches up, pushes her hair back from her face. She feels like her heart is beating so hard.

“Honestly could barely sleep thinking about these,” he says, slipping his finger into the band of her underwear. Allie’s flooded with warmth - _want_ \- and thinks she should tell him to stop, but doesn’t.

“Sounds like a you problem.” He just smiles, this really kind of beautiful thing that feels a little too soft right now, and moves his hand a bit so it’s sort of against her ass. She doesn’t mind.

“Remember when we thought it’d be hard to be alone once we got back home?” he asks, and he sounds a little amused, but a little sad, too.

“Little did we know,” she tells him quietly, and he lets out a slow breath, watches her mouth. She thinks she’d let him undress her right this second. “We have a lot to do today.”

He nods, but doesn’t stop playing with her hair, using his finger tips to follow her hairline at her left temple as she looks at him. “But we don’t have to rush.”

“We can’t stay in bed all day, Harry.”

His eyes shine a little, his lips quirk as he watches his hand instead of her face. “Bet we could.”

It’s low and sexy, and _god_ , she thinks she’d take him up on it under literally any other circumstances. And he shifts his thigh just the slightest bit and then looks at her hotly when her breath hitches.

“Just admit you want to. Like just a little,” he says, and Allie laughs, hand against his ribs.

“I admit nothing, Bingham.” But her voice is quiet, soft, like she sort of wants to give herself away. He definitely looks like he wants to call her on it.

So she cuts him off by pressing her mouth against his a little hard, pulling a moan from his throat, her tongue dragging against his bottom lip until he’s opening his mouth and pressing his hand against the small of her back to pull her to him.

She pulls away first, leaving him whining kind of pathetically, and says, “I’m showering.”

Harry rolls flat on his back, his arms outstretched on the bed when she gets up. But if he thinks she doesn’t see the way he lifts his head to watch her as she gathers some clothes and walks into the bathroom, he’s definitely mistaken. And if she unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, her back to him, and tosses it onto his bed as he leans up on his elbow, _very_ interested in the look of her in just her yellow underwear, well. That’s just between them.

She needs to do laundry, but she also overpacked for the trip. She figures she’ll go home at some point, wash some things, get more. She...She should really not assume that this living situation is permanent. God, she’s crazy thinking she needs more clothes. It was one night and that’s because everything was dark and scary. Now that it’s daytime, she feels less freaked out. She is still very much freaked out, but it feels less ominous. At least in the light of day, they can assess things and organize and survey the town.

After her shower, she pulls on jeans and her tee shirt with the star on the front. Harry’s not in the room when she walks back out. The bed’s not made. She makes it, because she’s a good guest. She grabs her phone and stuffs it into her back pocket, then heads down the hall and down the stairs.

When she walks into the kitchen, Harry, Grizz and Will are all seated at the kitchen island on stools eating - honest to god - Cap’n Crunch. She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter, watching.

“There’s coffee,” Harry says, gesturing to the machine. “And cereal.”

“You realize you three are children, right?” she asks, then reaches for a mug and, yes, a bowl for cereal. She hasn’t eaten anything since they stopped for fast food last night at like, 5:30.

The list they wrote on the little whiteboard on the side of Harry’s fridge is still there. She’s glad. It had been Grizz’s idea to write it down like that. Harry had argued they should just use the notes app, but Grizz said something about things being more impactful if you document them in writing. Cited some study. Allie hadn’t really cared, just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t wake up this morning and have to start all over again.

When they get to the church, it looks like almost everyone has come. They’re filing in through the doors, though some people are just standing talking outside until things start. Grizz and Will get out of the backseat, and when Allie reaches for the door handle, Harry wraps his hand gently around her elbow.

“Hey,” he says, and she just waits, assuming there’s more. But then he takes too long.

“What?” she asks gently.

“You know what this means, right?” he asks, and he’s looking down at the console between them, but then finally lifts his eyes to look at her. She doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “If you start calling the shots. People are gonna...If things go well, they’ll expect more. If they go badly, they’ll hate you.”

She...she hadn’t thought of that at all. She also hadn’t considered, honestly, that people will think she’s somehow in charge, or something. Honestly, they’re all sort of doing the work together, and they’ve made no decisions that aren’t just fully based in common sense.

“I’m not trying to call all the shots. But also…” She pauses. Harry’s watching her. “Someone has to.”

“They’ll eat you alive,” he says quietly, and maybe he’s right, and maybe it’s fucking insane to suggest this, but honestly, what isn’t insane about all this?

“So help me,” she says, and it’s a bit of a plea, and Harry’s face is a little blank. Or at least unchanged. “Come on. With my brains and your beauty, we’re unstoppable.”

He laughs too loudly, and then looks at her like he thinks this is still risky, but puts his hand on the side of her neck and closes his eyes now that he’s touching her.

God, a little over a week ago she had an unrequited crush on a guy and this week she’s got a maybe boyfriend and an abandoned town to run and maybe possibly it stands to reason they could live together.

“Everything’s fucked up here,” she reminds him. “Old rules don’t apply. People will listen to you. You said it yourself. They like you because they think it’ll get them something. We can use that.”

His brow goes up like he’s impressed at this line of thinking, at how smart she is, maybe.

He seems to think about it. She tries not to actually count the seconds in her head. He’s just sitting there, looking past her, his hand still on her neck. Then he lets out a breath and meets her eyes.

“Okay.” Allie throws her arms around him and presses her lips against his neck. “We’re probably gonna disagree on some stuff.”

“I know,” she says, like...She doesn’t need the warning. They aren’t the same. They have different life experiences and she thinks, honestly, if he had it his way he’d just keep everything that’s his and wouldn’t care too much about everyone else as a collective. “Maybe we’ll balance each other out. Meet in the middle on the things we’re polar opposites on.”

“Yeah?” She nods. Harry grins at her a little, and then she looks over her shoulder and almost everyone’s inside the church now, waiting. “Maybe debating each other’ll be really hot.”

She laughs, pushes gently at his chest. But also; “Honestly? Maybe.”

She’s still terrified. She still wants to know what’s happening, where everyone is, where her family is. She wants to know if Cassandra had tried to message her back last night and couldn’t, and that’s why their last messages are what they are. If maybe Cassandra is trying to message her _now_. She wants to know what other people know. What they can do about food. She thinks they should plan for the long haul. Harry thinks they’ll figure something out before they need to think that far ahead. She just feels like that’s irresponsible. Grizz had agreed with her. Will had been mostly quiet, then said something about maybe tallying things anyway, just so they know.

She’s never done any of this before. She’s never been the calming voice or the voice anyone listened to at all, actually. She’s trying not to think about what it would be like if Cassandra was here, because she’s _not_. She tries not to think they’d be better off if she was around. Allie’s spent all morning in her head trying to convince herself she’s - they’re - doing the right thing. It’s comforting to have Harry, WIll and Grizz to talk to about things, but she knows she’ll need more support than that. She knows she and Harry are absolutely going to butt heads, that they’ll argue and probably really piss each other off. She’s trying to prepare for that. She’s trying to prepare for anything. Which is maybe stupid and pointless, because they still don’t know what’s happening, or what this is, or what, really, other people are thinking and what they’re willing to do.

Last night in the dark, in his bed, Harry had complimented her on how quickly she started thinking about the hard things no one had wanted to talk about. He’d said something about leadership. He’d said he wasn’t surprised. He’d also said that feeling of dread in her stomach was maybe somehow related to this, but she’s trying hard not to think anything about that. Anything about maybe her knowing, somewhere deep down, that something was really wrong.

She waits until Harry’s next to her on the sidewalk, his hand stuffed into his pocket and this blue shirt with white stripes unbuttoned a little too low. The church doors are shut now, and everyone’s just waiting for them.

“Any idea what we can expect walking in there?” she asks, and Harry lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head.

“No fucking idea.”

Allie puts her arm around his waist, and he puts his around her shoulder as they start towards the building.

“You got my back?” She means it as a joke. Honestly. It was supposed to come out lighter than that. Teasing.

But Harry smiles, nods, and says, “Yeah. You got mine?”

She hugs him again, leans up to kiss him quickly, gently. She is absolutely not going to think too hard about the look on his face.

She pulls back, opens the door, and they walk into the church together.


End file.
